To be most true: But now I turn to thee,
To thee Don Henrique, and if impious Acts
Have left thee blood enough to make a blush,
I'le paint it on thy cheeks. Was not the wrong
Sufficient to defeat me of mine honour,
To leave me full of sorrow, as of want,
The witness of thy lust left in my womb,
To testifie thy falshood, and my shame?
But now so many years I had conceal'd
Thy most inhumane wickedness, and won