please don't go.

RICHARD (roughly). Why? You don't want me here.

JUDITH. Yes, I--(wringing her hands in despair) Oh, if I tell you
the truth, you will use it to torment me.

RICHARD (indignantly). Torment! What right have you to say that?
Do you expect me to stay after that?

JUDITH. I want you to stay; but (suddenly raging at him like an
angry child) it is not because I like you.

RICHARD. Indeed!

JUDITH. Yes: I had rather you did go than mistake me about that.
I hate and dread you; and my husband knows it. If you are not
here when he comes back, he will believe that I disobeyed him and
drove you away.

RICHARD (ironically). Whereas, of course, you have really been so
kind and hospitable and charming to me that I only want to go
away out of mere contrariness, eh?

Judith, unable to bear it, sinks on the chair and bursts into
tears.

RICHARD. Stop, stop, stop, I tell you. Don't do that. (Putting
his hand to his breast as if to a wound.) He wrung my heart by
being a man. Need you tear it by being a woman? Has he not raised