Escarpin.
Shall I speak it?
Chrysanthus.
Speak.
Escarpin.
Why, they
Say, my lord, that you are cracked.
Chrysanthus.
For what reason? Why this blame?
Escarpin.
Reason, sir, need not be had,
For the wisest man is mad
If he only gets the name.
Chrysanthus.
Well, it was not wrongly given,
If they only knew that I
Have consented even to die
So to reach the wished-for heaven
Of a sovereign beauty's favour.