A monologue from the play "Love's Labour's Lost" by William Shakespeare

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About this Monologue

  • Character: Berowne
  • Gender: Male
  • Age Range(s): Young Adult (20-35), Adult (36-50)
  • Type of monologue / Character is: In love, Talking to the audience
  • Type: Serio-comic
  • Period: Renaissance
  • Genre: Comedy
  • Description: Berowne laments his love
  • Location: ACT II, Scene 1

Summary

The King of Navarre, together with his three lords Berowne, Longaville and Dumaine, make an oath to scolarship for three years. In order to dedicate themselves to their studies they swear to fasting, to give up women and to sleep as little as possible. The King decides not to allow any women in his court. The daughter of the King of France, however, arrives with three women, Maria, Katherine and Rosaline. The King refuses to allow them in his house because he doesn't want to break his oath and meets them out in the field with his three lords. They all show interest in the three women.

Berowne falls in love with ...

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Excerpt

BEROWNE
And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip;
A very beadle to a humorous sigh;
A critic, nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy;
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
Sole imperator and great general
Of trotting 'paritors:--O my little heart:--
And I to be a corporal of his field,
And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
What, I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right!
Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A wightly wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan:
Some men must love my lady and some Joan.



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