Nor Prudence, nor Esteem, his place supplied.
Disguise thrown off, each reads the other’s heart,
And feels with horror that they cannot part.
Still they can speak—and ’tis some comfort still,
That each can vex the other when they will:
Words half in jest to words in earnest led, }
And these the earnest angry passions fed, }
Till all was fierce reproach, and peace for ever fled. }
“And so you own it! own it to my face, 240
Your love is vanish’d—infamous and base!”—