Jup. I will not dare to justify my crime,
But only point you where to lay the blame;
Impute it to the husband, not the lover.
Alcm. How vainly would the sophister divide,
And make the husband and the lover two!
Jup. Yes, 'tis the husband is the guilty wretch;
His insolence forgot the sweets of love,
And, deeming them his due, despised the feast.
Not so the famished lover could forget;
He knew he had been there, and had been blest