Monologue

Imogen Monologue from Cymbeline

From Cymbeline by William Shakespeare

female · anguished · 1:14 min

Rehearse this freeFind more monologues
Thou told’st me, when we came from horse, the place Was near at hand. Ne’er long’d my mother so To see me first as I have now. Pisanio! Man! Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh From th’ inward of thee? One but painted thus Would be interpreted a thing perplex’d Beyond self-explication. Put thyself Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness Vanquish my staider senses. What’s the matter? Why tender’st thou that paper to me with A look untender? If’t be summer news, Smile to’t before; if winterly, thou need’st But keep that count’nance still. My husband’s hand? That drug-damn’d Italy hath out-craftied him, And he’s at some hard point. Speak, man; thy tongue May take off some extremity, which to read Would be even mortal to me.

About this piece

20s · fear · love · betrayal · longing · identity

Rehearse Imogen'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 freeStart rehearsing

More from Cymbeline

Browse