Gone to be married? Gone to swear a peace? False blood to false blood join’d? Gone to be friends? Shall Louis have Blanche, and Blanche those provinces? It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard; Be well advis’d, tell o’er thy tale again. It cannot be; thou dost but say ’tis so. I trust I may not trust thee, for thy word Is but the vain breath of a common man. Believe me, I do not believe thee, man. I have a king’s oath to the contrary. Thou shalt be punish’d for thus frighting me, For I am sick and capable of fears, Oppress’d with wrongs, and therefore full of fears, A widow, husbandless, subject to fears, A woman, naturally born to fears, And though thou now confess thou didst but jest, With my vex’d spirits I cannot take a truce, But they will quake and tremble all this day. What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head? Why dost thou look so sadly on my son? What means that hand upon that breast of thine? Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, Like a proud river peering o’er his bounds? Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words? Then speak again—not all thy former tale, But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

Constance Monologue from King John

Rehearse Constance's monologue