Mildred monologue (Act 1) — A Blot in the 'Scutcheon

Over? Oh, what is over? what must I live through And say, "'tis over"? Is our meeting over? Have I received in presence of them all The partner of my guilty love--with brow Trying to seem a maiden's brow--with lips Which make believe that when they strive to form Replies to you and tremble as they strive, It is the nearest ever they approached A stranger's... Henry, yours that stranger's... lip-- With cheek that looks a virgin's, and that is... Ah God, some prodigy of thine will stop This planned piece of deliberate wickedness In its birth even! some fierce leprous spot Will mar the brow's dissimulating! I Shall murmur no smooth speeches got by heart, But, frenzied, pour forth all our woeful story, The love, the shame, and the despair--with them Round me aghast as round some cursed fount That should spirt water, and spouts blood. I'll not ...Henry, you do not wish that I should draw This vengeance down? I'll not affect a grace That's gone from me--gone once, and gone for ever!