From out the blue eye, stain the rose cheek—bah!
A smile, a word's gay reassurance—ah,
With kissing interspersed,—shall make amends,
Turn pain to pleasure."
"What, in truth so ends
Abruptly, do you say, our intercourse?"
Next day, asked Artemisia: "I 'll divorce
Husband and wife no longer. Go your ways,
Leave Rome! Viterbo owns no equal, says
The by-word, for fair women: you, no doubt,