_Isa._ Alas! Poor creatures, when we are once o' the falling hand, A man may easily come over us. 90 It is as hard for us to hide our love As to shut sin from the Creator's eyes. I'faith, my lord, I had a month's mind[137] unto you, As tedious as a full-riped[138] maiden-head; And, Count of Cyprus, think my love as pure As the first opening of the blooms in May: (You're virtuous, man;[139] nay, let me not blush to say so:) And see for your sake thus I leave to sorrow. Begin this subtile conjuration with me, And as this taper, due unto the dead, 100 I here extinguish, so my late-dead lord I put out ever from my memory, That his remembrance may not wrong our love, [_Puts out the taper._ As bold-faced women, when they wed another, Banquet their husbands with their dead loves' heads. _Rob._ And as I sacrifice this to his ghost, With this expire all corrupt thoughts of youth, That fame-insatiate devil jealousy, And all the sparks that may bring unto flame, Hate betwixt man and wife, or breed defame. 110 [_Puts out the other taper._ _Re-enter_[140] MIZALDUS _and_ GUIDO. _Miz._[141] Marry, amen. I say; madam, are you that were in for all day, now come to be in for all night? How now, Count Arsena? _Gui._[142] Faith, signior, not unlike the condemn'd malefactor, That hears his judgment openly pronounced; But I ascribe to fate. Joy swell your love; Cypress and willow grace my drooping crest. _Rob._ We do intend our hymeneal rites With the next rising sun. Count Arsena,[143] Next to our bride, the welcom'st to our feast. 120 [_Exeunt_ ISABELLA _and_ ROBERTO. _Gui._ _Sancta Maria!_ what think'st thou of this change? A player's passion I'll believe hereafter, And in a tragic scene weep for old Priam,[144] When fell-revenging Pyrrhus with supposed And artificial wounds mangles his breast, And think it a more worthy act to me, Than trust a female mourning o'er her love. Naught that is done of woman shall me please, Nature's step-children, rather her disease.[145] _Miz._ Learn of a well-composèd epigram 130 A woman's love, and thus 'twas sung unto us; _The_[146] _tapers that stood on her husband's hearse_, _Isabel advances to a second bed:_ _Is it not wondrous strange for to rehearse_ _She should so soon forget her husband, dead_ _One hour? for if the husband's life once fade,_ _Both love and husband in one grave are laid._ But we forget ourselves: I am for the marriage Of Signior Claridiana and the fine Mistress Abigail. 139