MOSCON and LIVIA.
MOSCON. Have they gone?
LIVIA. They're gone: all right.
MOSCON. Why, I'm almost dead with fright.
LIVIA. Were you of your sense bereft
When but now my room you left
And appeared before her sight?
MOSCON. Left your room? Be seen by her?
Why, I swear it, Livia dear,
Not one moment did I stir.
LIVIA. Who then was it she saw here?
MOSCON. Well, the devil, as I infer.
How know I? But then do not
Take it so to heart, my soul.
LIVIA. Oh! that's not the cause.
[She weeps.
MOSCON. Then what?
LIVIA. Such a question, when the whole
Of a day it was his lot
With me here locked up to stay?
For his comrade far away
Must I not a tear then shed,
Though I take this day instead,
Having wept not yesterday?
Would I have him think of me
As a woman who could be
So forgetful and so frail,
As for half a year to fail
In what we did both agree?
MOSCON. Half a year? It is above
One whole year since he went away.
LIVIA. Quite an error, as I'll prove.
Mind, I cannot count a day
When I Clarin could not love.
This being so, if I to thee
Gave up half the year (ah me!),
I would give a false amount
To place all to his account.
MOSCON. Ah, ungrateful! can it be
When my heart on thee depends
For its peace, that thine attends
To such trifles?
LIVIA. Moscon, yes,
For I find, I must confess,
Short accounts make longest friends.
MOSCON. Such being then thy constancy,
Livia, I must say good-bye,
Till to-morrow. Ah! if he
Is thy two-day fever, I
Hope he's not thy syncope.
LIVIA. Well, my friend, from this you know
I no malice bear.
MOSCON. Just so.
LIVIA. See me then no more to-day,
But to-morrow, sir, you may:
I'll not need to send. Heigho!
[Exeunt.
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