Monologue

King Monologue from Love's Labour's Lost

From Love's Labour's Lost by William Shakespeare

male · inspirational · 1:29 min

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Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live registered upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring time, Th’ endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe’s keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity. Therefore, brave conquerors, for so you are That war against your own affections And the huge army of the world’s desires, Our late edict shall strongly stand in force. Navarre shall be the wonder of the world; Our court shall be a little academe, Still and contemplative in living art. You three, Berowne, Dumaine and Longaville, Have sworn for three years’ term to live with me, My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes That are recorded in this schedule here. Your oaths are passed, and now subscribe your names, That his own hand may strike his honour down That violates the smallest branch herein. If you are armed to do as sworn to do, Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too.

About this piece

30s · determination · honor · ambition · identity · power

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