SCENE II.

PLANGUS _solus_.

PLAN. I can no longer hold; 'tis not i' th' power Of fate to make me less. Bid me outstare The sun, outrun a falling star, Feed upon flames, or pocket up the clouds; Or if there be a task mad Juno's hate Could not invent to plague poor Hercules, Impose it upon me, I'll do't without a grudge. Condemn me to a galley, load me with chains Whose weight may so keep me down, I can scarce Swell under my burden to let out a sigh, I would o'ercome all. Were there a deity That men adore, and throw their prayers upon, That would lend just ears to human wishes, I would grow great by being punished, and be A plague myself, so that when people curs'd Beyond invention, to their prodigious rhetoric This epiphonema should be added, "Become as miserable as wretched Plangus." I have been jaded, basely jaded, By those tame fools, honour and piety, And now am wak'd into revenge, breathing forth ruin To those first spread this drowsiness upon My soul. A woman! O heaven, had I been gull'd By anything had borne the name of man! But this will look so sordidly in story: I shall be grown discourse for grooms and footboys, Be balladed, and sung to filthy tunes. But do I talk still? well, I must leave this patience. And now, Ephorbas, Since thou hast wrought me to this temper, I'll be reveng'd with as much skill as thou Hast injur'd me. I will to these presently, for My hour-glass shall not run ten minutes longer, And having kill'd myself before thee, I'll pluck my heart out, tell thee all My innocence, and leave thee hemm'd in with A despair thicker than Egyptian darkness. I know thou canst not choose but die for grief. But here he is.

[_Exit._