Monologue

Duke Monologue from Twelfth Night

From Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

male · dark · 1:29 min

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Still so cruel? (OLIVIA: Still so constant, lord.) What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfull’st off’rings hath breathed out That e’er devotion tender’d! What shall I do? (OLIVIA: Even what it please my lord that shall become him.) Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death, Kill what I love?—a savage jealousy That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this: Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, And that I partly know the instrument That screws me from my true place in your favour, Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still. But this your minion, whom I know you love, And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, Him will I tear out of that cruel eye Where he sits crowned in his master’s spite.— Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief: I’ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, To spite a raven’s heart within a dove.

About this piece

The Duke expresses his intense feelings of jealousy and betrayal as he contemplates violent actions against a rival for the affections of the one he loves.

30s · anger · jealousy · love · betrayal · revenge

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