Leontes Monologue from The Winter's Tale

From The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare

male · anguished · 52 sec

Too hot, too hot! To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. I have _tremor cordis_ on me. My heart dances, But not for joy,—not joy. This entertainment May a free face put on, derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent: ’t may, I grant: But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, As now they are, and making practis’d smiles As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as ’twere The mort o’ th’ deer. O, that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows. Mamillius, Art thou my boy?

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