Evad. You look distractedly.
Gio. 'Tis but your thoughts; indeed I am wondrous well.
How fair she looks after so foul a deed!
It cannot be she should be false to me:
No, thou art mad to think so. Fool, O fool!
Think'st thou those slaves, having so fair a mark,
Would not be shooting? Yes, they would: they have.
Evadne is fly-blown: I cannot love her.
[Aside.]
Evad. What say you, sweet?
Gio. The innocence that sits upon that face
Says she is chaste; the guilty cannot speak
So evenly as she does: guilty, said I?
Alas! it were not her fault, were she ravish'd.
O madness, madness! whither wilt thou bear me?
[Aside.]
Evad. His senses are unsettled; I'll go seek
Some holy man to rectify his wits.
Sweet, will you go unto some hermit's cell?
You look as you lack'd rest.
Gio. She speaks
Like to an angel, she's the same as when
I saw her first: as pure, as chaste. Did she
Retain the substance of a sinner—for she is none—
Her breath would then be sour, and betray
The rankness of the act: but her chaste sighs
Beget as sweet a dew as that of May.
Why weeps Evadne? truly I am not mad.
See, I am tame; pray, lead me where you please.
[Exeunt.