All you that see her, that she were a maid,
By these exterior shows? But she is none:
040 She knows the heat of a luxurious bed;
Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
[042] Leon. What do you mean, my lord?
Claud.
Not to be married,
[043] Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.
[044] Leon. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof,
045 Have vanquish’d the resistance of her youth,