I will not. Queen and wife, hell durst not say I do not love thee.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

Heaven has heard—and I.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

Forget then all this foolishness, and pray God may forget it.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

God forgets as I.

[Exit Albovine.

Albovine

And had repentance helped him? Shall I think It might have molten in my burning heart The thrice-retempered iron of resolve? Yet well it is to know that penitence Lies further from that frozen heart of his Than mercy from the tiger’s. Ay, God knows, I had scorned him too had penitence bowed him down Before me: now I do but hate. I am not Abased as wholly, so supremely shamed, As though I had wedded one as hard as he Who yet might think to soften down with words What hardly might be cleansed with tears of blood, The monumental memory graven on steel That burns the naked spirit of sense within me Like the ardent sting of keen-edged ice, which makes The naked flesh feel fire upon it.

Enter Almachildes.

Almachildes

ALMACHILDES.

ALMACHILDES.

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