_Mass._ Thou dotest upon a devil, not a woman, That has bewitch'd thee with her sorcery, And drown'd thy soul in lethy faculties. Her quenchless[273] lust has [quite] benumbed thy knowledge; Thy intellectual powers oblivion smothers, That thou art nothing but forgetfulness. _Gni._ What's this to my Isabella? My sin's mine own. Her faults were none, until thou madest 'em known. 70 _Mass._ Leave her, and leave thy shame where first thou found'st it; Else live a bondslave to diseasèd lust, Devour'd in her gulf-like appetite, And infamy shall write thy epitaph; Thy memory leave nothing but thy crimes-- A scandal to thy name in future times. _Gni._ Put up your weapon; I dare hear you further. Insatiate lust is sire still to murther. _Mass._ Believe it, friend, if her heart-blood were vext, Though you kill me, new pleasure makes you next. 80 She loved me dearer than she loves you now; She'll ne'er be faithful, has twice broke her vow. This curse pursues female adultery, They'll swim through blood for sin's variety; Their pleasure like a sea, groundless and wide, A woman's lust was never satisfied. _Gni._ Fear whispers in my breast, I have a soul That blushes red for tend'ring[274] bloody facts. Forgive me, friend, if I can be forgiven; Thy counsel is the path leads me to heaven. 90 _Mass._ I do embrace thy reconcilèd love---- _Gni._ That death or danger now shall ne'er remove. Go tell thy Insatiate Countess, Anna, We have escap'd the snares of her false love, Vowing for ever to abandon her. _Mass._ You have heard our resolution; pray, be gone. _Ann._ My office ever rested at your pleasure; I was the Indian, yet you had the treasure. My faction often sweats, and oft takes cold; Then gild true diligence o'er with gold. 100 _Mass._ Thy speech deserves it. There's gold; [_Gives her gold._ Be honest now, and not love's noddy, Turn'd up and play'd on whilst thou keep'st the stock. Prithee formally let's ha' thy absence. _Ann._ Lords, farewell. [_Exit_ ANNA. _Mass._ 'Tis whores and panders that makes earth like hell. _Gni._ Now I am got out of lust's labyrinth, I will to Venice for a certain time, To recreate my much abusèd spirits, And then revisit Pavy and my friend. 110 _Mass._ I'll bring you on your way, but must return; Love is like Ætna, and will ever burn. Yet now desire is quench'd, flamed once in height: Till man knows hell he never has firm faith. [_Exeunt ambo._ [270] Old eds. "get." [271] Old eds. "Rogero." [272] Old eds. "GUIDO."--The prefix to his speeches is "_Gui._" [273] So the editor of 1820.--Old eds. "vselesse."