Monologue

Lady Monologue from The Scornful Lady

From The Scornful Lady by Francis Beaumont

female · defiant · 1:15 min

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Excuse me gentle Sir, 'twas from my knowledge, And shall have no protection. And to you Sir, You have shew'd more heat than wit, and from your self Have borrowed power, I never gave you here, To do these vile unmanly things: my house Is no blind street to swagger in; and my favours Not doting yet on your unknown deserts So far, that I should make you Master of my business; My credit yet stands fairer with the people Than to be tried with swords; and they that come To do me service, must not think to win me With hazard of a murther; if your love Consist in fury, carry it to the Camp: And there in honour of some common Mistress, Shorten your youth, I pray be better temper'd: And give me leave a while Sir. (Wel: You must have it. Welford.) Now Sir, your business?

About this piece

30s · anger · power · honor · identity · betrayal

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