Stay! I will brook no answer. For thy sake Did I not paint the town in crimson-lake? Have I not wrenched thee through thy nunnery-bars? And bear I not some ninety-seven scars Taken as I fought my way to thy fair feet? Think how thy relatives rushed into the street To save thee--how I put them to the sword And left them strewn about in heaps! (GIOCONDA: My lord--) Had I a boy's light love when I, to win Thy favour, cut off all thy kith and kin? Run through the list! Measure my love by that! Two great-grandfathers (one, I own, was fat); Five brothers; fourteen uncles; half a score Of nephews (and I dare say even more); A brace of maiden-aunts; a second-cousin; And family connections by the dozen. Does it not melt that pitiless heart of ice To see thyself secured at such a price? (GIOCONDA: My lord--) Or if indeed thy heart requires Flame fiercer than my love's Etnaean fires-- Ask what thou wilt, but do not ask that I Live on. Command me, rather, how to die. Say in what style thou'dst have me perish here, So that at least my ardour win one tear! Choose what thou wilt--I'll execute thy charge-- Nor fear to speak: my repertoire is large. I can suspend myself upon a rafter; Fall on my blade, and die with horrid laughter; Leap from a height; read Bennett's books; or swallow Poison--and, mark you, with no sweet to follow.

Hilda Monologue from Square Pegs: A Rhymed Fantasy For Two Girls

Rehearse Hilda's monologue