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PlayShakespeare.com: The Ultimate Free Shakespeare Resource
PlayShakespeare.com: The Ultimate Free Shakespeare Resource
PlayShakespeare.com: The Ultimate Free Shakespeare Resource

Monologues for Men

FER.

There be some sports are painful, and their labor

Delight in them sets off; some kinds of baseness

Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters

Point to rich ends. This my mean task

Would be as heavy to me as odious, but

The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead,

And makes my labors pleasures. O, she is

Ten times more gentle than her father’s crabbed;

And he’s compos’d of harshness. I must remove

Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,

Upon a sore injunction. My sweet mistress

Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness

Had never like executor. I forget;

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labors,

Most busil’est when I do it.

I am, in my condition,

A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king

(I would, not so!), and would no more endure

This wooden slavery than to suffer

The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:

The very instant that I saw you, did

My heart fly to your service, there resides,

To make me slave to it, and for your sake

Am I this patient log-man.

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