_Isa._ Anna, stand here and entertain Lord Massino;[260] I from my window straight will give him answer. The serpent's wit to woman rest in me; By that man fell, then why not he by me? 109 Feign'd sighs, and tears dropp'd from a woman's eye, Blinds man of reason, strikes his knowledge dumb. Wit arms a woman; Count Massino,[260] come. [_Exit_ ISABELLA. _Ann._ My office still is under: yet in time Ushers prove masters, degrees makes us climb. [MASSINO[261] _knocks_. Who knocks? Is't you, my noble lord? _Enter_ MASSINO[261] _in his hunting weeds_. _Mass._ Came my friend hither--Count Gniaca? _Ann._ No, my good lord. _Mass._ Where's my Isabella? _Ann._ In her chamber. _Mass._ Good: I'll visit her. 120 _Ann._ The chamber's lock'd, my lord: she will be private. _Mass._ Lock'd against me--my saucy malapert? _Ann._ Be patient, good my lord; she'll give you answer. _Mass._ Isabella! life of love, speak, 'tis I that calls. [ISABELLA at her window.[262] _Isa._ I must desire your lordship pardon me. _Mass._ Lordship? what's this? Isabella, art thou blind? _Isa._ My lord, My lust was blind, but now my soul's clear-sighted, And sees the spots that did corrupt my flesh: Those tokens sent from hell, brought by desire, 130 The messenger of everlasting death! _Ann._ My lady's in her pulpit, now she'll preach. _Mass._ Is not thy lady mad? In verity I always Took her for a puritan, and now she shows it. _Isa._ Mock not repentance. Profanation Brings mortals laughing to damnation. Believe it, lord, Isabella's ill-pass'd life, Like gold refined, shall make a perfect wife. I stand on firm ground now, before on ice; We know not virtue till we taste of vice. 140 _Mass._ Do you hear dissimulation, woman sinner? _Isa._ Leave my house, good my lord, and for my part, I look for a most wish'd reconciliation Betwixt myself and my most wrongèd husband. Tempt not contrition then, religious lord. _Mass._ Indeed I was one of your family once; But do not I know these are but brain-tricks: And where the devil has the fee-simple, He'll keep possession; and will you halt Before me that yourself has made a cripple? 150 _Isa._ Nay, then, you wrong me; and, disdainèd lord, I paid then for thy pleasures vendible-- Whose mercenary flesh I bought with coin. I will divulge thy baseness, 'less with speed Thou leave my house and my society.