Monologue

Duchess Monologue from The Duchess of Malfi

From The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster

female · anguished · 1:07 min

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Of nothing; When I muse thus, I sleep. (CARIOLA: Like a madman, with your eyes open?) Dost thou think we shall know one another In th' other world? (CARIOLA: Yes, out of question.) O, that it were possible we might But hold some two days' conference with the dead! ]From them I should learn somewhat, I am sure, I never shall know here. I 'll tell thee a miracle: I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow: Th' heaven o'er my head seems made of molten brass, The earth of flaming sulphur, yet I am not mad. I am acquainted with sad misery As the tann'd galley-slave is with his oar; Necessity makes me suffer constantly, And custom makes it easy. Who do I look like now?

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30s · despair · madness · death · isolation · sorrow

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