Monologue

Holofernes Monologue from Love's Labour's Lost

From Love's Labour's Lost by William Shakespeare

male · comedic · 1:05 min

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Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? And, to humour the ignorant, call I the deer the Princess killed a pricket. (NATHANIEL: Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge, so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.) I will something affect the letter; for it argues facility. The preyful Princess pierced and pricked a pretty pleasing pricket; Some say a sore; but not a sore till now made sore with shooting. The dogs did yell, put “l” to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket; Or pricket sore, or else sorel, the people fall a-hooting. If sore be sore, then “L” to “sore” makes fifty sores o’ sorel. Of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but one more “L”.

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30s · confusion · identity · language · humor

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