Monologue

Urs Monologue from Bartholomew Fair

From Bartholomew Fair by Ben Jonson

male · comedic · 35 sec

My chair, you false faucet you; and my morning's draught, quickly, a bottle of ale, to quench me, rascal. I am all fire and fat, Nightingale, I shall e'en melt away to the first woman, a rib again, I am afraid. I do water the ground in knots, as I go, like a great garden pot; you may follow me by the SS. I make.

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