Monologue

Florizel Monologue from The Winter's Tale

From The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare

male · romantic · 42 sec

Old sir, I know She prizes not such trifles as these are: The gifts she looks from me are pack’d and lock’d Up in my heart, which I have given already, But not deliver’d. O, hear me breathe my life Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, Hath sometime lov’d. I take thy hand! this hand, As soft as dove’s down and as white as it, Or Ethiopian’s tooth, or the fann’d snow that’s bolted By th’ northern blasts twice o’er.

Rehearse Florizel'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 free Get started free