A Woman Killed With Kindness Monologue
|A Woman Killed With Kindness Monologue by Thomas Heywood|
- WENDOLL: Pursued with horror of a guilty soul,
- And with the sharp scourge of repentance lashed,
- I fly from mine own shadow. O my stars!
- What have my parents in their lives deserved,
- That you should lay this penance on their son?
- When I but think of Master Frankford's love,
- And lay it to my treason, or compare
- My murthering him for his relieving me,
- It strikes a terror like a lightning's flash,
- To scorch my blood up. Thus I, like the owl,
- Ashamed of day, live in these shadowy woods,
- Afraid of every leaf or murmuring blast.
- Yet longing to receive some perfect knowledge
- How he hath dealt with her. [Sees Anne.] O my sad fate!
- Here, and so far from home, and thus attended!
- O God! I have divorced the truest turtles
- That ever lived together, and, being divided,
- In several places make their several moan;
- She in the field laments, and he at home.
- So poets write that Orpheus made the trees
- And stones to dance to his melodious harp,
- Meaning the rustic and the barbarous hinds,
- That had no understanding part in them;
- So she from these rude carters tears extracts,
- Making their flinty hearts with grief to rise,
- And draw down rivers from their rocky eyes.
Credits: Reprinted from A Woman Killed With Kindness. Ed. A. W. Ward. London: Dent, 1897.