Suffolk monologue (Act 3) — King Henry VI, Part 2

A plague upon them! Wherefore should I curse them? Could curses kill, as doth the mandrake’s groan, I would invent as bitter searching terms, As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear, Delivered strongly through my fixed teeth, With full as many signs of deadly hate, As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave. My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words; Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint; Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract; Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban; And even now my burdened heart would break Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink! Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste! Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress-trees! Their chiefest prospect murdering basilisks; Their softest touch as smart as lizards’ stings! Their music frightful as the serpent’s hiss, And boding screech-owls make the consort full! All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell—