Flamineo Monologue from The White Devil

From The White Devil by John Webster

male · dark · 45 sec

'Faith, I made to her some such dark promise; and, in seeking to fly from 't, I run on, like a frighted dog with a bottle at 's tail, that fain would bite it off, and yet dares not look behind him. Now, my precious gipsy. (Zan: Ay, your love to me rather cools than heats.) Marry, I am the sounder lover; we have many wenches about the town heat too fast. (Hort: What do you think of these perfumed gallants, then?) Their satin cannot save them: I am confident They have a certain spice of the disease; For they that sleep with dogs shall rise with fleas.

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