ERAS. No, no, madam, do not think that I have come to speak to you again of my passion; it is all over; I am resolved to cure myself. I know how little share I have in your heart. A resentment kept up so long for a slight offence shows me your indifference but too plainly, and I must tell you that contempt, above all things, wounds a lofty mind. I confess I saw in you charms which I never found in any other; the delight I took in my chains would have made me prefer them to sceptres, had they been offered to me. Yes, my love for you was certainly very great; my life was centred in you; I will even own that, though I am insulted, I shall still perhaps have difficulty enough to free myself. Maybe, notwithstanding the cure I am attempting, my heart may for a long time smart with this wound. Freed from a yoke which I was happy to bend under, I shall take a resolution never to love again. But no matter, since your hatred repulses a heart which love brings back to you, this is the last time you shall ever be troubled by the man you so much despise. LUC. You might have made the favour complete, sir, and spared me also this last trouble. ERAS. Very well, madam, very well, you shall be satisfied. I here break off all acquaintance with you, and break it off for ever, since you wish it; may I lose my life if ever again I desire to converse with you! LUC. So much the better, you will oblige me. ERAS. No, no, do not be afraid that I shall break my word! For, though my heart may be weak enough not to be able to efface your image, be assured you shall never have the pleasure of seeing me return. LUC. You may save yourself the trouble. ERAS. I would pierce my breast a hundred times should I ever be so mean as to see you again, after this unworthy treatment. LUC. Be it so; let us talk no more about it. ERAS. Yes, yes; let us talk no more about it; and to make an end here of all unnecessary speeches, and to give you a convincing proof, ungrateful woman, that I forever throw off your chain, I will keep nothing which may remind me of what I must forget. Here is your portrait; it presents to the eye many wonderful and dazzling charms, but underneath them lurk as many monstrous faults; it is a delusion which I restore to you. GR.-RE. You are right. LUC. And I, not to be behind-hand with you in the idea of returning everything, restore to you this diamond which you obliged me to accept. MAR. Very well. ERAS. Here is likewise a bracelet of yours. [Footnote: Formerly lovers used to wear bracelets generally made of each others hair, which no doubt were hidden from the common view. Shakespeare, in his _Mid-summer Night's Dream_, Act i., Scene I, says, "Thou, Lysander, thou hast... stol'n th' impression of her fantasy with bracelets of thy hair."] LUC. And this agate seal is yours.