Monologue

Dolabella Monologue from John Dryden

From John Dryden by All for Love

male · philosophical · 43 sec

Men are but children of a larger growth; Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain; And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room, Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing: But, like a mole in earth, busy and blind, Works all her folly up, and casts it outward To the world's open view: Thus I discovered, And blamed the love of ruined Antony: Yet wish that I were he, to be so ruined.

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