No More Learning

I have told thee now. I have taught thee. After this
Eat, drink, make thyself merry. Count the bliss
Of the one passing hour thine own; the rest
Is Fortune's. And give honour chiefliest
To our lady Cypris, giver of all joys
To man. 'Tis a sweet goddess. Otherwise,
Let all these questions sleep and just obey
My counsel. . . . Thou believest all I say?
I hope so. . . .
Let this stupid grieving be;
Rise up above thy troubles, and with me
Drink in a cloud of blossoms. By my soul,
I vow the sweet plash-music of the bowl
Will break thy glumness, loose thee from the frown
Within. Let mortal man keep to his own
Mortality, and not expect too much.
To all your solemn dogs and other such
Scowlers--I tell thee truth, no more nor less--
Life is not life, but just unhappiness.

[_He offers the wine-bowl to the_ SERVANT, _who avoids it_. ]

SERVANT.
We know all this. But now our fortunes be
Not such as ask for mirth or revelry.

HERACLES.
A woman dead, of no one's kin; why grieve
So much? Thy master and thy mistress live.

SERVANT.
Live? Man, hast thou heard nothing of our woe?

HERACLES.
Yes, thy lord told me all I need to know.