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 drownéd 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.
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