Bel monologue — The Spanish Tragedy

Aye, go, Horatio; leave me here alone, For solitude best fits my cheerless mood.-- Yet what avails to wail Andreas death, From whence Horatio proves my second love? Had he not lov'd Andrea as he did, He could not sit in Bel-imperia's thoughts. But how can love find harbour in my breast, Till I revenge the death of my belov'd? Yes, second love shall further my revenge: I'll love Horatio, my Andrea's friend, The more to spite the prince that wrought his end; And, where Don Balthazar, that slew my love, Himself now pleads for favor at my hands, He shall, in rigour of my just disdain, Reap long repentance for his murderous deed,-- For what was't else but murderous cowardice, So many to oppress one valiant knight, Without respect of honour in the fight? And here he comes that murder'd my delight.