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Rh

I heard Romiero loud; what is the matter?

O nothing, Madam; pray advance. O nothing! Nothing that you should be surprised to hear. That ladies can be fair and delicate, And to the world's eye as saints devout, Yet all the while be coarse, debased, and stain'd With passions that disgrace the vulgar kind.

Alas! what mean you?

Thou'st play'd me false; thou art a worthless woman; So base, so sunk, that those whose appellation Brings blushes to the cheeks of honest women Compared to thee are pure.—Off! do not speak! It is a sick'ning sight to look upon thee, Fair as thou art. Feign not to be surprised: Begone, I say, I cannot for a moment Now thou art safe; but go, thou shameless creature!

Madam, I pray you go, for he is furious, And would not listen to a saint from heaven. [Exit wringing her hands.]