PAOLO. O, Heaven, if I have faltered and am weak, Tis from my nature! Fancies, more accursed Than haunt a murderer's bedside, throng my brain-- Temptations, such as mortal never bore Since Satan whispered in the ear of Eve, Sing in my ear--and all, all are accursed! At heart I have betrayed my brother's trust, Francesca's openly. Turn where I will, As if enclosed within a mirrored hall, I see a traitor. Now to stand erect, Firm on my base of manly constancy; Or, if I stagger, let me never quit The homely path of duty, for the ways That bloom and glitter with seductive sin! [_Exit._
SCENE I. _Rimini. A Room in the Castle._ LANCIOTTO _discovered reading._
LANCIOTTO. O! fie, philosophy! This Seneca Revels in wealth, and whines about the poor! Talks of starvation while his banquet waits, And fancies that a two hours' appetite Throws light on famine! Doubtless he can tell, As he skips nimbly through his dancing-girls, How sad it is to limp about the world A sightless cripple! Let him feel the crutch Wearing against his heart, and then I'd hear This sage talk glibly; or provide a pad, Stuffed with his soft philosophy, to ease His aching shoulder. Pshaw! he never felt, Or pain would choke his frothy utterance. 'Tis easy for the doctor to compound His nauseous simples for a sick man's health; But let him swallow them, for his disease, Without wry faces. Ah! the tug is there. Show me philosophy in rags, in want, Sick of a fever, with a back like mine, Creeping to wisdom on these legs, and I Will drink its comforts. Out! away with you! There's no such thing as real philosophy! [_Throws down the book._]
Here is a sage who'll teach a courtier The laws of etiquette, a statesman rule, A soldier discipline, a poet verse, And each mechanic his distinctive trade; Yet bring him to his motley, and how wide He shoots from reason! We can understand All business but our own, and thrust advice In every gaping cranny of the world; While habit shapes us to our own dull work, And reason nods above his proper task. Just so philosophy would rectify All things abroad, and be a jade at home. Pepe, what think you of the Emperor's aim Towards Hungary?
PEPE. A most unwise design; For mark, my lord--