I'll tell thee what it says; it calls me villain, a treacherous husband, a cruel father, a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities; or to say all in one short word, it calls me gamester.
Be just, my lovely swain, and do not take Freedoms you'll not to me allow; Or give Amynta so much freedom back That she may rove as well as you. Let us then love upon the honest square, Since interest neither have designed. For the sly gamester, who ne'er plays me fair, Must trick for trick expect to find.
Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see an end of him: for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never schooled and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about.
For when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.