You
know very well that his bile is pretty often stirred up; that he can
rage against you finely, when your behaviour offends him. He is now in
treaty with Anselmo about your marriage with his daughter, Hippolyta;
imagining that it is marriage alone that mayhap can steady you: now,
should he discover that you reject his choice, and that you entertain a
passion for a person nobody knows anything about; that the fatal power
of this foolish love causes you to forget your duty and disobey him;
Heaven knows what a storm will then burst forth, and what fine lectures
you will be treated to.
LEL. A truce, I pray, to your rhetoric.
MASC. Rather a truce to your manner of loving, it is none of the best,
and you ought to endeavour.
LEL. Don't you know, that nothing is gained by making me angry, that
remonstrances are badly rewarded by me, and that a servant who counsels
me acts against his own interest?
MASC. (_Aside_). He is in a passion now. (_Aloud_). All that I
said was but in jest, and to try you. Do I look so very much like a
censor, and is Mascarille an enemy to pleasure? You know the contrary,
and that it is only too certain people can tax me with nothing but being
too good-natured. Laugh at the preachings of an old grey-beard of a
father; go on, I tell you, and mind them not.
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