Isabella Monologue from The White Devil

From The White Devil by John Webster

female · dark · 1:04 min

O that I were a man, or that I had power To execute my apprehended wishes! I would whip some with scorpions. (Fran: What! turn'd fury!) To dig that strumpet's eyes out; let her lie Some twenty months a-dying; to cut off Her nose and lips, pull out her rotten teeth; Preserve her flesh like mummia, for trophies Of my just anger! Hell, to my affliction, Is mere snow-water. By your favour, sir;-- Brother, draw near, and my lord cardinal;-- Sir, let me borrow of you but one kiss; Henceforth I 'll never lie with you, by this, This wedding-ring. (Fran: How, ne'er more lie with him!) And this divorce shall be as truly kept As if in thronged court a thousand ears Had heard it, and a thousand lawyers' hands Sealed to the separation.

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