Why, fare thee well. Your brother and yourself are worthy men! You have a pair of hearts are hollow graves, Rotten, and rotting others; and your vengeance, Like two chain'd-bullets, still goes arm in arm: You may be brothers; for treason, like the plague, Doth take much in a blood. I stand like one That long hath ta'en a sweet and golden dream: I am angry with myself, now that I wake. (FERDINAND: Get thee into some unknown part o' the world, That I may never see thee.) Let me know Wherefore I should be thus neglected. Sir, I serv'd your tyranny, and rather strove To satisfy yourself than all the world: And though I loath'd the evil, yet I lov'd You that did counsel it; and rather sought To appear a true servant than an honest man. (FERDINAND: I 'll go hunt the badger by owl-light: 'Tis a deed of darkness. Exit.) He 's much distracted. Off, my painted honour! While with vain hopes our faculties we tire, We seem to sweat in ice and freeze in fire. What would I do, were this to do again? I would not change my peace of conscience For all the wealth of Europe.--She stirs; here 's life:-- Return, fair soul, from darkness, and lead mine Out of this sensible hell:--she 's warm, she breathes:-- Upon thy pale lips I will melt my heart, To store them with fresh colour.--Who 's there? Some cordial drink!--Alas! I dare not call: So pity would destroy pity.--Her eye opes, And heaven in it seems to ope, that late was shut, To take me up to mercy.

Bosola Monologue from The Duchess of Malfi

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