Rosamund monologue (Act 2) — Rosamund, Queen of the Lombards: A Tragedy

I am yet alive to question if I live And wonder what may ever bid me die. But live I will, being yet not dead with thee, Father. Thou knowest in Paradise my heart. I feel thy kisses breathing on my lips, Whereto the dead cold relic of thy face Was pressed at bidding of thy slayer last night, And yet they were not withered: nay, they are red As blood is—blood but newly spilt—not thine. How good thou wast and sweet of spirit—how dear, Father! None lives that knew thee now save one, And none loves me but thou nor thee but I, That was till yesternight thy daughter: now That very name is tainted, and my tongue Tastes poison as I speak it. There is nought Left in the range and record of the world For me that is not poisoned: even my heart Is all envenomed in me. Death is life, Or priesthood lies that swears it: then I give The man my husband and thy homicide Life, if I slay him—the life he gave thee.