A monologue from the play "A Midsummer Night's Dream" by William Shakespeare


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About this Monologue

  • Character: Titania
  • Gender: Female
  • Age Range(s): Adult (36-50), Senior (>50)
  • Type of monologue / Character is: Descriptive, Lamenting
  • Type: Dramatic
  • Period: Renaissance
  • Genre: Comedy
  • Description: Titania expresses how her argument with Oberon has altered the natural course of things
  • Location: ACT II, Scene 1


The play revolves around three plots, all connected by the marriage of Theseus, the Duke of Athens, with the legenday Queen of the Amazons, Hyppolita. In the first plot, Egeus, a noblemen, appears at Theseus' court with his daughter Hermia and two men, Demetrius and Lysander. Egeus wants her daughter to marry Demetrius but Hermia is in love with Lysander. Her father urges her to change her mind or else she could even be executed. Lysander and Hermia, however, plan to elope and get married outside of Athens. They confide in Helena who in turn is in love with Demetrius. She tells Demetrius about their plan so that ...

Written by Administrator



These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
Have every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents:
The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
The human mortals want their winter here;
No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound:
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original.

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