SHAKESPEARE MONOLOGUES

1. SHAKESPEARE MONOLOGUES

2. Kate from The Taming of the Shrew • A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled-Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;And while it is so, none so dry or thirstyWill deign to sip or touch one drop of it. • Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance commits his bodyTo painful labour both by sea and land,To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;And craves no other tribute at thy handsBut love, fair looks, and true obedience-Too little payment for so great a debt.Such duty as the subject owes the prince,Even such a woman oweth to her husband;And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,And not obedient to his honest will,What is she but a foul contending rebelAnd graceless traitor to her loving lord?

3. The Quality of Mercy… Portia from The Merchant of Venice The quality of mercy is not strain'd,It droppeth as the gentle rain from heavenUpon the place beneath: it is twice blest;It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomesThe throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,The attribute to awe and majesty,Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;But mercy is above this sceptred sway;It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,It is an attribute to God himself;And earthly power doth then show likest God'sWhen mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,Though justice be thy plea, consider this,That, in the course of justice, none of usShould see salvation: we do pray for mercy;And that same prayer doth teach us all to renderThe deeds of mercy.

4. How Happy Some O’er Some Can Be… Helena from A Midsummer Night’s Dream How happy some o'er other some can be!Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;He will not know what all but he do know: And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,So I, admiring of his qualities:Things base and vile, folding no quantity,Love can transpose to form and dignity:Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind:Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste;Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste:And therefore is Love said to be a child,Because in choice he is so oft beguiled. As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,So the boy Love is perjured every where:For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia'seyne,He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine;And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt.

5. These are the Forgeries of Jealousy – Titania from Midsummer Night’s Dream The human mortals want their winter here;No night is now with hymn or carol blest:Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,Pale in her anger, washes all the air,That rheumatic diseases do abound:And thorough this distemperature we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frostsFar in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,And on old Hiems' thin and icy crownAn odorous chaplet of sweet summer budsIs, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,The childing autumn, angry winter, changeTheir wonted liveries, and the mazed world,By their increase, now knows not which is which:And this same progeny of evils comesFrom our debate, from our dissension; We are their parents and original.

6. From You Are Three Men of Sin… Ariel from The Tempest You fools! I and my fellowsAre ministers of Fate: the elements,Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabsKill the still-closing waters, as diminishOne dowle that's in my plume: my fellow-ministersAre like invulnerable. If you could hurt,Your swords are now too massy for your strengths And will not be uplifted. But remember—For that's my business to you—that you threeFrom Milan did supplant good Prospero;Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed The powers, delaying, not forgetting, haveIncensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,Against your peace.

7. Nor for Yours Neither… Portia from Julius Caesar Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,Musing and sighing, with your arms across,And when I ask'd you what the matter was,You stared upon me with ungentle looks;I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot;Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,But, with an angry wafture of your hand,Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did;Fearing to strengthen that impatience Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withalHoping it was but an effect of humour,Which sometime hath his hour with every man.It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,And could it work so much upon your shape As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

8. I Will Tell You Why… Hamlet from Hamlet I will tell you why. So shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the King and Queen moult no feather. I have of late- but wherefore I know not- lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire- why, it appeareth no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! And yet to me what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me- no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

9. The Play’s the Thing… Hamlet from Hamlet Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! Hum, I have heardThat guilty creatures, sitting at a play,Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presentlyThey have proclaim'd their malefactions;For murther, though it have no tongue, will speakWith most miraculous organ, I'll have these PlayersPlay something like the murther of my father Before mine uncle. I'll observe his looks;I'll tent him to the quick. If he but blench,I know my course. The spirit that I have seenMay be a devil; and the devil hath powerT' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhapsOut of my weakness and my melancholy,As he is very potent with such spirits,Abuses me to damn me. I'll have groundsMore relative than this. The play's the thingWherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.

10. Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers… Brutus from Julius Caesar Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: —Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. 

11. If You Have Tears… Antony from Julius Caesar Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:See what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it,As rushing out of doors, to be resolvedIf Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel:Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!This was the most unkindest cut of all;For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;And, in his mantle muffling up his face,Even at the base of Pompey's statua,Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feelThe dint of pity: these are gracious drops.

12. What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks… Romeo from Romeo and Juliet But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she:Be not her maid, since she is envious;Her vestal livery is but sick and greenAnd none but fools do wear it; cast it off.It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?Her eye discourses; I will answer it.I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyesTo twinkle in their spheres till they return.What if her eyes were there, they in her head?The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so brightThat birds would sing and think it were not night.

13. My Mistress with a Monster is in Love… Puck from Midsummer Night’s Dream My mistress with a monster is in love.Near to her close and consecrated bower,While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,Were met together to rehearse a playIntended for great Theseus' nuptial-day.The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,Who Pyramus presented, in their sportForsook his scene and enter'd in a brake When I did him at this advantage take,An ass's nole I fixed on his head:Anon his Thisbe must be answered,And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,Rising and cawing at the gun's report,Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;He murder cries and help from Athens calls.