WENDOLL: [Melancholy] I am a villain, if I apprehend
But such a thought! Then, to attempt the deed--
Slave, thou art damned without redemption!
I'll drive away this passion with a song.
A song! Ha, ha! A song! As if, fond man,
Thy eyes could swim in laughter when thy soul
Lies drenched and drown├ęd in red tears of blood!
I'll pray, and see if God within my heart
Plant better thoughts. Why, prayers are meditations,
And when I meditate (O, God forgive me!)
It is on her divine perfections.
I will forget her; I will arm myself
Not t' entertain a thought of love to her;
And, when I come by chance into her presence,
I'll hale these balls until my eyestrings crack
From being pulled and drawn to look that way.
O God, O God! With what a violence
I'm hurried to my own destruction!
There goest thou, the most perfect'st man
That ever England bred a gentleman,
And shall I wrong his bed?--Thou God of Thunder,
Stay, in thy thoughts of vengeance and of wrath,
Thy great, almighty, and all-judging hand
From speedy execution on a villain,
A villain and a traitor to his friend!
Notes: NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from A Woman Killed With Kindness. Ed. A. W. Ward. London: Dent, 1897. Read more at http://www.monologuearchive.com/h/heywood_001.html#k5fEwSr2fkGh0Rdl.99

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Word count: 200
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Thomas Heywood
17th & 18th Century Dramatic
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