Monologue

Lady Monologue from The Scornful Lady

From The Scornful Lady by Francis Beaumont

female · anguished · 54 sec

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I, say you so? Sure I should know that voice: this is knavery. I'le fit you for it. Were he living Sir, I would perswade you to be charitable, I, and confess we are not all so ill as your opinion holds us. O my friend, what penance shall I pull upon my fault, upon my most unworthy self for this? (Elder Lo: Leave to love others, 'twas some jealousie That turn'd him desperate.) I'le be with you straight: are you wrung there? (Elder Lo: This works amain upon her.) I do confess there is a Gentleman Has born me long good will.

About this piece

20s · longing · love · jealousy · redemption · identity

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