Monologue

Hermione Monologue from The Winter's Tale

From The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare

female · anguished · 41 sec

There’s some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords, I am not prone to weeping, as our sex Commonly are; the want of which vain dew Perchance shall dry your pities. But I have That honourable grief lodg’d here which burns Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords, With thoughts so qualified as your charities Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so The king’s will be perform’d.

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