Mon. And wilt thou be a very faithful wretch?
Never grow fond of cheerful peace again?
Wilt thou with me study to be unhappy,
And find out ways how to increase affliction?
Pol. We'll institute new arts unknown before
To vary plagues, and make them look like new ones.
First, if, the fruit of our detested joy,
A child be born, it shall be murdered—
Mon. No;
Sure that may live?
Pol. Why?
Mon. To become a thing
More wretched than its parents; to be branded
With all our infamy, and curse its birth.
Pol. That's well contrived; then thus let's go together,
Full of our guilt, distracted where to roam,
Like the first wretched pair expelled their paradise.
Let's find some place where adders nest in winter,
Loathsome and venomous; where poisons hang
Like gums against the walls; where witches meet
By night, and feed upon some pampered imp,
Fat with the blood of babes: there we'll inhabit,
And live up to the height of desperation.
Desire shall languish like a withering flower,
And no distinction of the sex be thought of.
Horrors shall fright me from those pleasing harms,
And I'll no more be caught with beauty's charms;
But when I'm dying, take me in thy arms! [Exeunt.
