Monologue

Olivia Monologue from Twelfth Night

From Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

female · anguished · 31 sec

Your lord does know my mind, I cannot love him: Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; In voices well divulg’d, free, learn’d, and valiant, And in dimension and the shape of nature, A gracious person. But yet I cannot love him. He might have took his answer long ago.

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