Is one of those words, in which the eloquence of lovers shines with success. Nothing is more persuasively employed than the appeals made to it, against the rigid prescriptions of duty. Thus when a lover makes use of this trite argument: “Either nature is imperfect in itself, by giving us inclinations that the laws condemn, or the laws are justly accusable of too great severity, in condemning inclinations given us by nature.”
This profound sophistry means, “Since you have scruples, my game is to remove them. Reason may give itself what airs it pleases; but if you love me, nature will do the rest of my work for me.”
Is banished the states of Love. Where-ever reason is against pleasure, pleasure is against reason, and generally carries the day. Sometimes, indeed, reason is bribed into the interests of the enemy, and mounts the stage only like those prize-fighters, who have sold their battles, and are hired to take a beating.
You make me lose my reason, in a lover's mouth, signifies, “Since it is a maxim in love, that no one is a thorough lover who has any share of reason, I renounce at least the appearances of it, in hopes to bring you to renounce the reality.”