SCENE XVII.


LADY TOUCHWOOD with a dagger; MASKWELL; CYNTHIA and LORD TOUCHWOOD
abscond, listening.

LADY TOUCH. You want but leisure to invent fresh falsehood, and
soothe me to a fond belief of all your fictions: but I will stab
the lie that's forming in your heart, and save a sin, in pity to
your soul.

MASK. Strike then, since you will have it so.

LADY TOUCH. Ha! A steady villain to the last.

MASK. Come, why do you dally with me thus?

LADY TOUCH. Thy stubborn temper shocks me, and you knew it would;
this is cunning all, and not courage. No; I know thee well, but
thou shalt miss thy aim.

MASK. Ha, ha, ha!

LADY TOUCH. Ha! Do you mock my rage? Then this shall punish your
fond, rash contempt. Again smile! [Goes to strike.] And such a
smile as speaks in ambiguity! Ten thousand meanings lurk in each
corner of that various face.