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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

POL.

Mark your divorce, young sir,

Discovering himself.

Whom son I dare not call. Thou art too base

To be acknowledg’d. Thou, a sceptre’s heir,

That thus affects a sheep-hook! Thou, old traitor,

I am sorry that by hanging thee I can

But shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece

Of excellent witchcraft, whom of force must know

The royal fool thou cop’st with—

I’ll have thy beauty scratch’d with briers and made

More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,

If I may ever know thou dost but sigh

That thou no more shalt see this knack (as never

I mean thou shalt), we’ll bar thee from succession,

Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,

Farre than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words.

Follow us to the court. Thou, churl, for this time,

Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee

From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment—

Worthy enough a herdsman, yea, him too,

That makes himself (but for our honor therein)

Unworthy thee—if ever, henceforth, thou

These rural latches to his entrance open,

Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,

I will devise a death as cruel for thee

As thou art tender to’t.

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