MAR. He is not gone yet, but do not yield.
LUC. Do not imagine I am so weak.
MAR. He comes towards us.
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.
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