Richard monologue (Act 3) — The Devil's Disciple

If I said—to please you—that I did what I did ever so little for your sake, I lied as men always lie to women. You know how much I have lived with worthless men—aye, and worthless women too. Well, they could all rise to some sort of goodness and kindness when they were in love. (_The word love comes from him with true Puritan scorn._) That has taught me to set very little store by the goodness that only comes out red hot. What I did last night, I did in cold blood, caring not half so much for your husband, or (_ruthlessly_) for you (_she droops, stricken_) as I do for myself. I had no motive and no interest: all I can tell you is that when it came to the point whether I would take my neck out of the noose and put another man’s into it, I could not do it. I don’t know why not: I see myself as a fool for my pains; but I could not and I cannot. I have been brought up standing by the law of my own nature; and I may not go against it, gallows or no gallows. (_She has slowly raised her head and is now looking full at him._) I should have done the same for any other man in the town, or any other man’s wife. (_Releasing her._) Do you understand that?