MASK. Ha, ha, ha!
LADY TOUCH. Ha! Do you mock my rage? Then this shall punish your fond, rash contempt. Again smile! [Goes to strike.] And such a smile as speaks in ambiguity! Ten thousand meanings lurk in each corner of that various face.
Oh! that they were written in thy heart,
That I, with this, might lay thee open to my sight!
But then ’twill be too late to know—
Thou hast, thou hast found the only way to turn my rage. Too well thou knowest my jealous soul could never bear uncertainty. Speak, then, and tell me. Yet are you silent. Oh, I am wildered in all passions. But thus my anger melts. [Weeps.] Here, take this poniard, for my very spirits faint, and I want strength to hold it; thou hast disarmed my soul. [Gives the dagger.]
LORD TOUCH. Amazement shakes me. Where will this end?
MASK. So, ’tis well—let your wild fury have a vent; and when you have temper, tell me.
LADY TOUCH. Now, now, now I am calm and can hear you.
MASK. [Aside.] Thanks, my invention; and now I have it for you. First, tell me what urged you to this violence: for your passion broke in such imperfect terms, that yet I am to learn the cause.