My father's angry ghost, I see, is not full

Appeased yet.[Studies
Why should I make of murther thus begun
A massacre?⁠50
He did my father right in his revenge:
Ay, but he wrong'd him first; and yet, who knows
But it was justice to attempt by force?
The removal of
Great favourites, though enemies to th' state,⁠55
Is not so warrantable—I'm in a maze.
Something I'll do, but what I cannot tell:
I fear the worst; lust never ended well.[Exit

⁠Fran. Fie, leave this importunity, my lord!
I shall yield else, by this kiss I shall.

⁠Bel. By this, and this, and this, thou shalt!
Heavens, what a breath is here! Thy father fed
On musk and amber, when he begot thee, sure!⁠5
The wanton air,
Chaf'd by the hot scents of Arabic spices,
Is nothing nigh so sweet:
The ambrosia, the gods themselves were drunk with,
Dwells on thy lips.⁠10

⁠Fran. Come, come, you flatter, 'tis on yours, my lord.

⁠Bel. On mine? Alas, Nature gave us the prickles,
You the roses, but meant that they should grow together.[Kisses again

⁠Fran. So, so: what, if the King or Florelio saw ye?

⁠Bel. What, if they did? I can fear nothing now⁠15
But surfeits.
Come, we lose time, my fairest, do we not?[Kisses her again
This is the minute.

⁠Flo. By heaven,
This is not fair, madam.

⁠Fran. ⁠Wonder strikes me dumb.[Exit⁠20

⁠Flo. How does she kiss, favourite?