PLAN. O dear Inophilus! Let earth and heav'n forget there are such things; Or if they ever name them, let it be With a curse heavy as are the ills they act. A mandrake's note Would ring a better peal of music in my ears, Than those two syllables pronounc'd again. INO. Pray, sir, put off this humour, This peevish pet, and reason tamely. Sir, You've lost a wench, and will you therefore lose Yourself too? Hear me but patiently a word.[89] PLAN. Prythee, go teach the galley-slaves that word, Things that dare own no thought beyond their chains, And stand in fear of whipping and wanting bread. Bid them be tame and patient that fry in sulphur: 'Tis a word I've forsworn to know the meaning of; Or if I must, 'tis but to shun it, and hate it more. O, were thy wrongs as great as mine, Inophilus, Or didst thou love but half so well as Plangus, Thou wouldst instil into me the poison of revenge, And puff me up with thought of vengeance Till I did burst, and, like a breaking cloud, Spread a contagion on those have injur'd me. INO. Why, this were handsome in some country-fellow, Whose soul is dirty as the thing he's mad for: 'Twere pretty in a lady that had lost her dog; [Her dog;] but---- PLAN. I know what thou wouldst say-- But for Plangus. O, 'tis for none but him to Be so. Those that have injur'd me are persons I once held dearer than my eyes; but how much Greater was my love, so much more is th' offence; Wounds from our friends are deepest. Had any but my father--and yet methinks That name should have protected me; or was it Made only to secure offenders? My life was his, he gave it me: my honour, too, I could have parted with; but, 'las, my love Was none of mine, no more than vows made to A deity and not perform'd. And for that creature, Who must be lost for ills, through which I must Make way to my revenge-- Had she betray'd my honour to anything But him that gave me being, she had made Me half amends, in that my way to vengeance Had been open. Now I am spurr'd forward To revenge by fury, and yet held in by the rein Of a foolish piety, that doth no man good But them that use it not. 'Tis like the miser's idol, it yielded him No gold till he had broke the head off. Nay, Inophilus, one secret more, And the horror of it blow thee from earth to heaven, Where there are no such things as women: 'Twill turn thy soul the inside outward: I cannot get it out. Prythee what is't, Inophilus? INO. Alas, I know not, sir. PLAN. Do but imagine the worst of ills Earth ever groan'd under; a sin nothing but woman, Nay, such a woman as Andromana, durst think on; And it is that. INO. How revenge transports you! Princes have lost their mistresses before, Nay, and to those have not such right to them, As hath Ephorbas to what Plangus hath. Who could command her, if not Ephorbas? PLAN. But I have--O Inophilus, I burst-- Yet it will out--dost thou not see it here? [_Unbuttons his doublet._ O, I have known Andromana as Ephorbas did last night.----