Love Monologue from Psyche

From Psyche by Molière

any · philosophical · 1:02 min

Your heart, Psyche, has ever been too insensible, and you must not wonder if, to repair the insult, Love now pays himself with usury for that which your soul ought to have granted him. The time is come in which your lips must breathe those sighs so long restrained; and while it draws you from that fierce humour, an endless rapture, as sweet as it is unknown, must wound you as deeply as it ought to have wounded you during those golden days the course of which your unfeeling soul has profaned. (PSY: Not to love is, then, a great crime?) Do you suffer a hard punishment for it? (PSY: The punishment is mild indeed.) The penalty is suited to the offence; and Love, on this glorious day, avenges himself of lack of love by an excess of love.

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