Thy pardon should restore to me the light
Thine anger took away, I would be blind,
I would not have mine eyes lest they should rest
On her who caused me all this bitterness!
Gal. Indeed, Pygmalion—’twere better thus—
If thou couldst look on Galatea now,
Thy love for her, perchance, might come again!
Pyg. No, no.
Gal.They say that she endureth pains
That mock the power of words!