If these white hairs forbade not such descent,)
That from this day, in pity to us all—
Perhaps in gratitude—you would repent
Your past excess; yea, surfeited with that,
Would henceforth tame your headlong passions down
Into a quiet current. Help me, son,
Restore the shaken credit of our house,
And show—let us both show—that misery
Has taught us not in vain. Let us be friends
Henceforth; no rivalry of love or hate