Chapter I: PORT. I, sir

He goeth in at one doore and comes out at another.

HIERO. Oh, forbeare,
For other talke for vs far fitter were!
But, if you be importunate to know
The way to him and where to finde him out,
Then list to me, and Ile resolue your doubt:
There is a path vpon your left hand side
That leadeth from a guiltie conscience
Vnto a forrest of distrust and feare,--
A darksome place and dangerous to passe,--
There shall you meet with melancholy thoughts
Whose balefull humours if you but [behold],
It will conduct you to dispaire and death:
Whose rockie cliffes when you haue once behelde,
Within a hugie dale of lasting night,
That, kindled with worlds of iniquities,
Doth cast vp filthy and detested fumes,--
Not far from thence where murderers haue built
A habitation for their cursed soules,
There, in a brazen caldron fixed by Iove
In his fell wrath vpon a sulpher flame,
Your-selues shall finde Lorenzo bathing him
In boyling lead and blood of innocents.

I PORT. Ha, ha, ha!

HIERO. Ha, ha, ha! why, ha, ha, ha! Farewell, good ha,
ha, ha!

Exit.