Fri. I married, reverend consul, and in that
Lost both my freedom, fortune, and myself.
My former single sweet condition
Clothes that remembrance in a sable weed,
Resolves mine eyes to Niobe's, whose tears
Might drop to marble, and erect an urn
T' inhume my funeral spousals.
[She feigns to weep, in resentment of her former estate.
Car. Alas! poor lady.
1st Boy. Pitiful senator, if he have not drunk some coffee to keep him waking, he will questionless fall asleep, or melt into tears, before he delivers his sentence.
[Aside.
Pal. Whence sprung this spring of infelicity?
Resolve us, madam.
Fri. From mine helpless match;
A tender stripling, whose unmanly chin
Had ne'er known razor, nor discover'd
A youthful down: yet his minority
Was by o'erpow'ring friends accounted fit
To match with my maturer growth; but time
Display'd their folly who enjoined me to't.
And (my misfortune most) light was his brain,
But weaker far his strength to satisfy
Those lawful nuptial heats which breathe[125] in us
An active fire. Now I appeal to you,
Judicious consuls.
2d Boy. Hold there, madam, under favour; these brave senators you appeal to are more for execution than judgment.
[Aside.
Fri. Could the patience
Of Grisel, were she living, reap content
In such enjoyments? Could she suffer youth,
Quicken'd with blooming fancy, to expire,
And quench her heat with such an useless snuff?