All the damnable degrees Of drinking have you staggered through.

How many ills spring from adultery? First the supreme law that is violated, Nobility oft stain'd with bastardy, Inheritance of land falsely possessed, The husband scorn'd, wife sham'd, and babes unbless'd.

I am Duchess of Malfi still.

All the damnable degrees Of drinking have you staggered through.

How tedious is a guilty conscience!

Are you grown an atheist? Will you turn your body, Which is the goodly palace of the soul, To the soul's slaughter-house? Oh, the curse' d devil, Which doth present us with all other sins Thrice-candied o'er.

Woman to man Is either a God or a wolfe.