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by: William Shakespeare

Act IV, scenes ii–iii

Let Heaven requite it with the serpent’s curse,
For if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
There’s no man happy. The purest of their wives
Is foul as slander. (IV.ii.)
Upon my knee, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words. (IV.ii.)

Heaven truly knows that thou art false as Hell. (IV.ii.)

’Ud’s pity, who would not make her husband a
cuckold to make him a monarch? I should venture
purgatory for ’t. (IV.iii.)