That wars with womankind! Thy panoply
A goodly form, smooth tongue, and fair false face.
Thy shield a lie; thy weapon an embrace;
The emblem of thy skill a broken heart!
Thine is a gallant calling, Ethais—
Thou manly knight—thou soul of chivalry—
Thou most discreet and prudent warrior!
(He approaches her.) Away, and touch me not! My nature’s gone.
May Heaven rain down her fury on thy soul!
May every fiber in that perjured heart