Dem. Put all the Devils wings on, and flie from me.
Cel. I will go from ye, never more to see ye:
I will flie from ye, as a plague hangs o're me;
And through the progress of my life hereafter;
Where ever I shall find a fool, a false man,
One that ne're knew the worth of polish'd vertue;
A base suspecter of a virgins honour,
A child that flings away the wealth he cri'd for,
Him will I call Demetrius: that fool Demetrius,
That mad man a Demetrius; and that false man,
The Prince of broken faiths, even Prince Demetrius.
You think now, I should cry, and kneel down to ye,
Petition for my peace; let those that feel here
The weight of evil, wait for such a favour,
I am above your hate, as far above it,
In all the actions of an innocent life,
As the pure Stars are from the muddy meteors,
Cry when you know your folly: howl and curse then,
Beat that unmanly breast, that holds a false heart
When ye shall come to know, whom ye have flung from ye.
Dem. Pray ye stay a little.
Cel. Not your hopes can alter me.
Then let a thousand black thoughts muster in ye,
And with those enter in a thousand doatings;
Those eyes be never shut, but drop to nothing:
My innocence for ever haunt and fright ye:
Those arms together grow in folds; that tongue,
That bold bad tongue that barks out these disgraces.
When you shall come to know how nobly vertuous
I have preserv'd my life, rot, rot within ye.
Dem. What shall I doe?
Cel. Live a lost man for ever.
Go ask your Fathers conscience what I suffered,
And through what seas of hazards I sayl'd through:
Mine honour still advanced in spight of tempests,
Then take your leave of love; and confess freely,
You were never worthy of this heart that serv'd ye,
And so farewel ungratefull— [Exit.
Dem. Is she gone?
Leo. I'le follow her, and will find out this matter.— [Exit.
Enter Antigonus, and Lords.
Ant. Are ye pleas'd now? have you got your heart again? Have I restor'd ye that?