Monologue

Constance Monologue from King John

From King John by William Shakespeare

female · anguished · 1:12 min

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Thou art not holy to belie me so. I am not mad. This hair I tear is mine; My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife; Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost. I am not mad; I would to heaven I were! For then ’tis like I should forget myself. O, if I could, what grief should I forget! Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And thou shalt be canoniz’d, cardinal; For, being not mad but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason How I may be deliver’d of these woes, And teaches me to kill or hang myself. If I were mad, I should forget my son, Or madly think a babe of clouts were he. I am not mad; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity.

About this piece

Constance expresses her profound grief and despair over the loss of her son Arthur, grappling with her sanity and the weight of her sorrow.

30s · despair · madness · family · grief · identity

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