POLEMIUS. Take this prisoner here to Rome, And be sure that you remember All of you my strict commands, That no hand shall dare divest him Of his veil:-- [Chrysanthus is led out. Why, why, O heavens! [aside. Do I pause, but from my breast here Tear my bleeding heart? How act In so dreadful a dilemma? If I say who he is, I tarnish With his guilt my name for ever, And my loyalty if I 'm silent, Since he being here transgresses By that fact alone the edict: Shall I punish him? The offender Is my son. Shall I free him? He Is my enemy and a rebel:-- If between these two extremes Some mean lies, I cannot guess it. As a father I must love him, And as a judge I must condemn him. [Exeunt. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. A hall in the house of Polemius. Enter Claudius and Escarpin. CLAUDIUS. Has he not returned? Can no one Guess in the remotest manner[8] Where he is? ESCARPIN. Sir, since the day That you left me with my master In Diana's grove, and I Had with that divinest charmer To leave him, no eye has seen him. Love alone knows how it mads me. CLAUDIUS. Of your loyalty I doubt not. ESCARPIN. Loyalty 's a different matter, 'T is not wholly that. CLAUDIUS. What then? ESCARPIN. Dark suspicions, dismal fancies, That perhaps to live with her He lies hid within those gardens. CLAUDIUS. If I could imagine that, I, Escarpin, would be gladdened Rather than depressed. ESCARPIN. I 'm not:-- I am filled, like a full barrel, With depressions. CLAUDIUS. And for what? ESCARPIN. Certain wild chimeras haunt me, Jealousy doth tear my heart, And despairing love distracts me. CLAUDIUS. You in love and jealous? ESCARPIN. I Jealous and in love. Why marvel? Am I such a monster? CLAUDIUS. What! With Daria? ESCARPIN. 'T is no matter What her name is, or Daria Or Maria, I would have her Both subjective and subjunctive, She verb passive, I verb active. CLAUDIUS. You to love so rare a beauty? ESCARPIN. Yes, her beauty, though uncommon, Would lack something, if it had not My devotion. CLAUDIUS. How? explain:-- ESCARPIN. Well, I prove it in this manner:-- Mr. Dullard fell in love (I do n't tell where all this happened, Or the time, for of the Dullards Every age and time give samples) With a very lovely lady: At her coach-door as he chattered One fine evening, he such nonsense Talked, that one who heard his clatter, Asked the lady in amazement If this simpleton's advances Did not make her doubt her beauty?-- But she quite gallantly answered, Never until now have I Felt so proud of my attractions, For no beauty can be perfect That all sorts of men do n't flatter. CLAUDIUS. What a feeble jest! ESCARPIN. This feeble?-- CLAUDIUS. Yes, the very type of flatness:-- Cease buffooning, for my uncle Here is coming.