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

Shamed she cannot be If thou be found not shameless. Plead no more Against thine own love’s surety. Doubt thou not I wish thee well, and love her. Make not thou Out of her shamefast maidenhood and fear A sword to cleave your happiness in twain. What if some oath constrain me, sworn in haste, Infrangible for shame’s sake, sealed in heaven Inevitable? Ask now no more of me. Nightfall is here upon us. Nought on earth May set the season of your bridal back If thou be true as she must. Wait awhile Here till a sign be sent thee—till a bell Strike softly from this chamber here at hand. I have sworn to her she shall not see thy face, So sore she prayed she might not: and for thee I swore that ere the darkling air grew grey Thou shouldst arise and leave her, and behold Thy midnight bride but when thou art bidden again To meet her here to-morrow. Strange it were, More strange than aught of all, that thou shouldst prove Dishonourable: and except thou be, these things Must all be wrought in this wise, lest her oath And mine, at peril of her soul and life, By passionate forgetfulness of thine Disloyally be broken. Swear to us now Thou wilt not break our oath and thine, or think To look to-night upon thy bride.