This hand shall now subdue; then stay thy fill.
What’s this? my mind recoils and irks these threats:
Anger delays, my grief gins to assuage,
My fury faints, and sacred wedlock’s faith
Presents itself. Why shunn’st thou fearful wrath?
Add coals afresh: preserve me to this venge,
At least exile thyself to realms unknown,
And steal his wealth to help thy banish’d state;
For flight is best. O base and heartless fear!
Theft? Exile? Flight? all these may fortune send