Soranzo Character Analysis

I would not, for my wealth, my daughter’s love
Should cause the spilling of one drop of blood.

Do you know me now? Look, perjured man, on her
Whom thou and thy distracted lust have wronged.
Thy sensual rage of blood hath made my youth
A scorn to men and angels;

These scornful taunts
Neither become your modesty or years.

Yet know –
Thus far I give you comfort – if mine eyes
Could have picked out a man, amongst all those
That sued to me, to make a husband of,
You should have been that man.

RICHARDETTO: Her sickness is a fullness of her blood –
You understand me?
FLORIO: I do – you counsel well –
And once within these few days will so order’t
She shall be married, ere she know the time.

Now guide my hand, some angry Justice,
Home to his bosom.

Burn, blood, and boil in vengeance. Oh, my heart!
My flame’s intolerable! – May’st thou live
To father bastards; may her womb bring forth
Monsters; and die together in your sins,
Hated, scorned and unpitied!

Yet will I not forget what I should be,
And what I am: a husband. In that name
Is hid divinity. If I do find
That thou wilt yet be true, here I remit
All former faults, and take thee to my bosom.

VASQUEZ: Let not your pity betray you till my coming back:
Think upon incest and cuckoldry.
SORANZO: Revenge is all the ambition I aspire;
To that I’ll climb or fall. My blood’s on fire!

I would not, for my wealth, my daughter’s love
Should cause the spilling of one drop of blood.

Do you know me now? Look, perjured man, on her
Whom thou and thy distracted lust have wronged.
Thy sensual rage of blood hath made my youth
A scorn to men and angels;

These scornful taunts
Neither become your modesty or years.

Yet know –
Thus far I give you comfort – if mine eyes
Could have picked out a man, amongst all those
That sued to me, to make a husband of,
You should have been that man.

RICHARDETTO: Her sickness is a fullness of her blood –
You understand me?
FLORIO: I do – you counsel well –
And once within these few days will so order’t
She shall be married, ere she know the time.

Now guide my hand, some angry Justice,
Home to his bosom.

Burn, blood, and boil in vengeance. Oh, my heart!
My flame’s intolerable! – May’st thou live
To father bastards; may her womb bring forth
Monsters; and die together in your sins,
Hated, scorned and unpitied!

Yet will I not forget what I should be,
And what I am: a husband. In that name
Is hid divinity. If I do find
That thou wilt yet be true, here I remit
All former faults, and take thee to my bosom.

VASQUEZ: Let not your pity betray you till my coming back:
Think upon incest and cuckoldry.
SORANZO: Revenge is all the ambition I aspire;
To that I’ll climb or fall. My blood’s on fire!