It is most strange when women love their lords,
And when they love them not it is most strange.
Jeppo
What a philosopher thou art, Petrucci!
Maffio
Ay! I can bear the ills of other men,
Which is philosophy.
Duchess
They tarry long,
These greybeards and their council; bid them come;
Bid them come quickly, else I think my heart
Will beat itself to bursting: not indeed,
That I here care to live; God knows my life
Is not so full of joy, yet, for all that,
I would not die companionless, or go
Lonely to Hell.
Look, my Lord Cardinal,
Canst thou not see across my forehead here,
In scarlet letters writ, the word Revenge?
Fetch me some water, I will wash it off:
’Twas branded there last night, but in the day-time
I need not wear it, need I, my Lord Cardinal?
Oh, how it sears and burns into my brain:
Give me a knife; not that one, but another,
And I will cut it out.
Cardinal
It is most natural
To be incensed against the murderous hand
That treacherously stabbed your sleeping lord.
Duchess