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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

CAL.

Why, as I told thee, ’tis a custom with him

I’ th’ afternoon to sleep. There thou mayst brain him,

Having first seiz’d his books; or with a log

Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,

Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember

First to possess his books; for without them

He’s but a sot, as I am; nor hath not

One spirit to command: they all do hate him

As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.

He has brave utensils (for so he calls them)

Which when he has a house, he’ll deck withal.

And that most deeply to consider is

The beauty of his daughter. He himself

Calls her a nonpareil. I never saw a woman

But only Sycorax my dam and she;

But she as far surpasseth Sycorax

As great’st does least.

Be not afeard, the isle is full of noises,

Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.

Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments

Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,

That if I then had wak’d after long sleep,

Will make me sleep again, and then in dreaming,

The clouds methought would open, and show riches

Ready to drop upon me, that when I wak’d

I cried to dream again.

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