Monologue

Fond Monologue from The Old Bachelor

From The Old Bachelor by William Congreve

34 sec

Good lack! good lack! I profess the poor man is in great torment; he lies as flat—Dear, you should heat a trencher, or a napkin.—Where’s Deborah? Let her clap some warm thing to his stomach, or chafe it with a warm hand rather than fail. What book’s this? LÆT. Mr. Spintext’s prayer-book, dear. Pray Heaven it be a prayer-book.

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