A noble temper dost thou show in this; And great affections wrestling in thy bosom Doth make an earthquake of nobility. O, what a noble combat hast thou fought Between compulsion and a brave respect! Let me wipe off this honourable dew That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks. My heart hath melted at a lady’s tears, Being an ordinary inundation; But this effusion of such manly drops, This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, Startles mine eyes and makes me more amaz’d Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven Figur’d quite o’er with burning meteors. Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, And with a great heart heave away this storm. Commend these waters to those baby eyes That never saw the giant world enrag’d, Nor met with fortune other than at feasts, Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping. Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep Into the purse of rich prosperity As Louis himself.—So, nobles, shall you all, That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. And even there, methinks, an angel spake. Enter Pandulph. Look, where the holy legate comes apace, To give us warrant from the hand of heaven, And on our actions set the name of right With holy breath.

Louis Monologue from King John

Rehearse Louis's monologue