Was it a rogue who wore a mask in antiquity , or was iniquity the initial harlot ’ s joke ? Shall I blame some atom prior to mankind that grew like poppies to befog the mind ? When did this menace , love , commence its dire sport ? Before all history , I gauge , a heart was whole , and then it broke . Was this then the rude crisis of proliferating need — there must be human fragments split to beget a seed .
SCENE IV — LUCILLE .
LUCILLE : Everyone ’ s suspicious , there is mischief in the air . Methinks the Madam is intending assignation with the friar . Perchance that rascal Mascarille again my window will intrude , the Madam will have contretemps of matrimony , mortified . But , best of all , should serve ‘ em right , that errant knave , my Mascarille , who should be decently affied to me , and make me his right wife . Why are these monstrosities called men so rarely ever men ? When they ’ re young , and fit , and lean they act like children in knee pants . When they ’ re handsome , strong , and apt they misbehave like neonates . The snuff , the drink , the gambling debts are barely more than nurs ’ ry toys ;