Lo, here the love that stirs this meanless hate!
Fronia. Eschew it far: such love impugns the laws.
Guenevera. Unlawful love doth like, when lawful loathes.
Fronia. And is your love of husband quite extinct?
Guenevera. The greater flame must needs delay the less:
Besides, his sore revenge I greatly fear.
Fronia. How can you then attempt a fresh offence?
Guenevera. Who can appoint a stint to her offence?
Fronia. But here the greatness of the fact should move.
Guenevera. The greater it, the fitter for my grief.