Monologue

Duke Monologue from Twelfth Night

From Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

male · philosophical · 1:34 min

Rehearse this freeFind more monologues
If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die. That strain again, it had a dying fall; O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour. Enough; no more; ’Tis not so sweet now as it was before. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou, That notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soever, But falls into abatement and low price Even in a minute! So full of shapes is fancy, That it alone is high fantastical. (CURIO: Will you go hunt, my lord?) What, Curio? (CURIO: The hart.) Why so I do, the noblest that I have. O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purg’d the air of pestilence; That instant was I turn’d into a hart, And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E’er since pursue me. How now? what news from her? Enter Valentine.

About this piece

The Duke reflects on the nature of love and music, expressing a deep yearning for the emotional highs and lows that accompany romantic desire.

40s · longing · love · desire · music · fantasy

Rehearse Duke'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 freeStart rehearsing

More from Twelfth Night

Every speech from Twelfth Night, printed in full

  • Violacontemplative · 1:03 min
  • Dukeinspirational · 1:23 min
  • Clownphilosophical · 1:41 min
  • Sebastianmelancholic · 2:08 min
  • Dukemelancholic · 1:29 min
  • Violacontemplative · 1:23 min

Browse