_Par._ Ay, ay, laugh at me! I am very glad You are not gulled by all this swaggering; you Can see the root of the matter!--how I strive To put a good face on the overthrow I have experienced, and to bury and hide My degradation in its length and breadth; How the mean motives I would make you think Just mingle as is due with nobler aims, The appetites I modestly allow May influence me as being mortal still-- Do goad me, drive me on, and fast supplant My youth's desires. You are no stupid dupe: You find me out! Yes, I had sent for you To palm these childish lies upon you, Festus! Laugh--you shall laugh at me! _Fest._ The past, then, Aureole, Proves nothing? Is our interchange of love Yet to begin? Have I to swear I mean No flattery in this speech or that? For you, Whate'er you say, there is no degradation; These low thoughts are no inmates of your mind, Or wherefore this disorder? You are vexed As much by the intrusion of base views, Familiar to your adversaries, as they Were troubled should your qualities alight Amid their murky souls: not otherwise, A stray wolf which the winter forces down From our bleak hills, suffices to affright A village in the vales--while foresters Sleep calm, though all night long the famished troop Snuff round and scratch against their crazy huts. These evil thoughts are monsters, and will flee. _Par._ May you be happy, Festus, my own friend! _Fest._ Nay, further; the delights you fain would think The superseders of your nobler aims, Though ordinary and harmless stimulants, Will ne'er content you....