Lady Wishfort Monologue from The Way of the World

From The Way of the World by William Congreve

female · dark · 1:00 min

Is he so unnatural, say you? Truly I would contribute much both to the saving of your life and the accomplishment of your revenge. Not that I respect myself; though he has been a perfidious wretch to me. (WAIT: Perfidious to you?) O Sir Rowland, the hours that he has died away at my feet, the tears that he has shed, the oaths that he has sworn, the palpitations that he has felt, the trances and the tremblings, the ardours and the ecstasies, the kneelings and the risings, the heart-heavings and the hand-gripings, the pangs and the pathetic regards of his protesting eyes!—Oh, no memory can register. (WAIT: What, my rival? Is the rebel my rival? A dies.) No, don’t kill him at once, Sir Rowland: starve him gradually, inch by inch.

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