Do you imagine that I don't know the cause of your distress?
"Thou dost not know, els hadst thou shrieked aloud."
I know that the sum and substance of your trouble comes from love-making. Of course, I do not shriek, for I am used to this insulting treatment at your hands. Undoubtedly you have come upon some Danae or Semele or Europa again, and are attacked with love, and so you are scheming to become a bull or a satyr, or to pour down as a shower of golden rain through the roof into your lady-love's lap. These groans, these tears, this pallor are symptoms of the lover and nobody else.