_Gui._ At the gallows. What, in a passion, signior? 10 _Cla._ Zounds! do not hold me, sir.-- Beauteous Thais, I am all thine wholly. The staff is now advancing for the rest, And when I tilt, Rogero,[233] 'ware thy crest! [_Exit_ CLARIDIANA. _Gui._ What's here? The cap'ring god-head[234] tilting in the air? _Enter_ ROBERTO _in his night-gown and cap, with_ Servants; _he kneels down_. _Rob._ The gods send her remorse,[235] a poor old age, Eternal woe, and sickness' lasting rage! _Gui._ My lord, you may yet o'ertake 'em. _Rob._ Furies supply that place, for I will not! No: 20 She can forsake me when pleasure's in the full, Fresh and untired; What would she on the least barren coldness? I warrant you she has already got Her bravoes and her ruffians; the meanest whore Will have one buckler, but your great ones more. The shores of Sicil retain not such a monster, Though to galley-slaves they daily prostitute. To let the nuptial tapers give light to her new lust! Who would have thought it? She that could no more Forsake my company than can the day 31 Forsake the glorious presence of the sun!-- When I was absent then her gallèd eyes Would have shed April showers, and outwept The clouds in that same o'er-passionate mood, When they drowned all the world, yet now forsakes me! Women, your eyes shed glances like the sun: Now shines your brightness, now your light is done. On the sweetest flowers[236] you shine--'tis but by chance, And on the basest weed you'll waste a glance. 40 Your beams, once lost, can never more be found, Unless we wait until your course run round, And take you at fifth hand. Since I cannot Enjoy the noble title of a man, But after-ages, as our virtues are Buried whilst we are living, will sound out My infamy and her degenerate shame, Yet in my life I'll smother 't, if I may, And like a dead man to the world bequeath These houses of vanity, mills, and lands. 50 Take what you will, I will not keep, among you, servants: And welcome some religious monastery. A true sworn beads-man I'll hereafter be, And wake the morning cock with holy prayers. _Ser._ Good my lord--noble master---- _Rob._ Dissuade me not, my will shall be my king; I thank thee, wife; a fair change thou has given; I leave thy lust to woo the love of Heaven! 58 [_Exit cum servis._ _Gui._ This is conversion, is 't not--as good as might have been? He turns[237] religious upon his wife's turning courtesan. This is just like some of our gallant prodigals, when they have consum'd their patrimonies wrongfully, they turn Capuchins for devotion. [_Exit._