Cornelia Monologue from The White Devil

From The White Devil by John Webster

female · anguished · 1:00 min

He lies, he lies! he did not kill him: these have killed him, that would not let him be better looked to. (Brach: Have comfort, my griev'd mother.) Oh, you screech-owl! (Hort: Forbear, good madam.) Let me go, let me go. [She runs to Flamineo with her knife drawn, and coming to him lets it fall. The God of heaven forgive thee! Dost not wonder I pray for thee? I 'll tell thee what 's the reason, I have scarce breath to number twenty minutes; I 'd not spend that in cursing. Fare thee well: Half of thyself lies there; and mayst thou live To fill an hour-glass with his moulder'd ashes, To tell how thou shouldst spend the time to come In blessed repentance!

Rehearse Cornelia's monologue

Run it out loud with a spotlight that follows your voice, line by line, until it's off the page. Free to start, no credit card.

Rehearse free Get started free