Shakespeare Female Monologues

Two Gentlemen of Verona (Act 4 Sc 3)

Silvia

O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman

Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not
Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplishd:
Thou art not ignorant what dear good will
I bear unto the banishd Valentine,
Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.
Thyself hast lovd, and I have heard thee say
No grief did ever come so near thy heart
As when thy lady and thy true-love died,
Upon whose grave thou vowdst pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;
And for the ways are dangerous to pass,
I do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and honor I repose.
Urge not my fathers anger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a ladys grief,
And on the justice of my flying hence,
To keep me from a most unholy match,
Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.
I do desire thee, even from a heart
As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
To bear me company, and go with me;
If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
That I may venture to depart alone.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

Two Gentlemen of Verona (Act 4 Sc 4)

Julia

And she shall thank you fort, if eer you know her.

A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful!

I hope my masters suit will be but cold,
Since she respects my mistress love so much.
Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
Here is her picture: let me see; I think
If I had such a tire, this face of mine
Were full as lovely as is this of hers;
And yet the painter flatterd her a little,
Unless I flatter with myself too much.
Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow:
If that be all the difference in his love,
Ill get me such a colord periwig.
Her eyes are grey as glass, and so are mine;
Ay, but her foreheads low, and mines as high.
What should it be that he respects in her,
But I can make respective in myself,
If this fond Love were not a blinded god?
Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,
For tis thy rival. O thou senseless form,
Thou shalt be worshippd, kissd, lovd, and adord;
And were there sense in his idolatry,
My substance should be statue in thy stead.
Ill use thee kindly for thy mistress sake
That usd me so; or else, by Jove I vow,
I should have scratchd out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

Twelfth Night (Act 2 Scene 2)

Viola

I left no ring with her. What means this lady?

Fortune forbid my outside have not charmd her!
She made good view of me; indeed so much
That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me sure, the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lords ring? Why, he sent her none.
I am the man! If it be so, as tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How easy is it for the proper-false
In womens waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we,
For such as we are made of, such we be.
How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly,
And I (poor monster) fond as much on him;
And she (mistaken) seems to dote on me.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my masters love;
As I am woman (now alas the day!),
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
O time, thou must untangle this, not I,
It is too hard a knot for me t untie
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

Midsummer Night's Dream (Act 1 Sc 1)

Helena

How happy some oer other some can be!

Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know what all but he do know;
And as he errs, doting on Hermias eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind;
And therefore is wingd Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Loves mind of any judgment taste;
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste;
And therefore is Love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguild.
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
So the boy Love is perjurd every where;
For ere Demetrius lookd on Hermias eyne,
He haild down oaths that he was only mine;
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolvd, and showrs of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermias flight;
Then to the wood will he tomorrow night
Pursue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expense.
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither and back again
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

Midsummer Night's Dream (Act 3 Sc 2)

Helena

Lo! She is one of this confederacy.

Now I perceive, they have conjoind all three
To fashion this false sport, in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspird, have you with these contrivd
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shard,
The sisters vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting usO, is all forgot?
All school-days friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition,
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So with two seeming bodies, but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

The Merchant of Venice (Act 3 Scene 2)

Portia

I pray you tarry, pause a day or two

Before you hazard, for in choosing wrong
I lose your company; therefore forbear a while.
Theres something tells me (but it is not love)
I would not lose you, and you know yourself,
Hate counsels not in such a quality.
But lest you should not understand me well
And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought
I would detain you here some month or two
Before you venture for me. I could teach you
How to choose right, but then I am forsworn.
So will I never be, so may you miss me,
But if you do, youll make me wish a sin,
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,
They have oerlookd me and divided me:
One half of me is yours, the other half yours
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours. O, these naughty times
Puts bars between the owners and their rights!
And so though yours, not yours. Prove it so,
Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.
I speak too long, but tis to peize the time,
To eche it, and to draw it out in length,
To stay you from election.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

The Taming Of The Shrew (Act 5 Scene 2)

Katherina

Fie, fie, unknit that threatning unkind brow,

And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman movd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty,
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance; commits his body
To painful labor, both by sea and land;
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou list warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am ashamd that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husbands foot;
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

King Henry VI Part III (Act 1 Scene 1)

Queen Margaret

Enforcd thee? Art thou king, and wilt be forcd?

I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch,
Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me,
And givn unto the house of York such head
As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
What is it, but to make thy sepulchre,
And creep into it far before thy time?
Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Callice,
Stern Faulconbridge commands the Narrow Seas,
The Duke is made Protector of the realm,
And yet shalt thou be safe? Such safety finds
The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
The soldiers should have tossd me on their pikes,
Before I would have granted to that act.
But thou preferst thy life before thine honor;
And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself
Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
Until that act of parliament be repeald
Whereby my son is disinherited.
The northern lords that have forsworn thy colors
Will follow mine, if once they see them spread;
And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace,
And utter ruin of the house of York.
Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, lets away.
Our army is ready; come, well after them
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

King Henry VI Part III (Act 1 Scene 4)

Queen Margaret

Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,

Come make him stand upon this molehill here
That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
What, was it you that would be Englands king?
Wast you that revelld in our parliament,
And made a preachment of your high descent?
Where are your mess of sons to back you now,
The wanton Edward, and the lusty George?
And wheres that valiant crook-back prodigy,
Dicky, your boy, that with his grumbling voice
Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
Or with the rest, where is your darling, Rutland?
Look, York, I staind this napkin with the blood
That valiant Clifford with his rapiers point
Made issue from the bosom of the boy;
And if thine eyes can water for his death,
I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
Alas, poor York, but that I hate thee deadly,
I should lament thy miserable state.
I prithee grieve, to make me merry, York.
What, hath thy fiery heart so parchd thine entrails
That not a tear can fall for Rutlands death?
Why art thou patient, man? Thou shouldst be mad;
And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
Thou wouldst be feed, I see, to make me sport:
York cannot speak unless he wear a crown.
A crown for York! And, lords, bow low to him;
Hold you his hands whilest I do set it on.

Putting a paper crown on his head.

Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!

Ay, this is he that took King Henrys chair,
And this is he was his adopted heir.
But how is it that great Plantagenet
Is crownd so soon, and broke his solemn oath?
As I bethink me, you should not be king
Till our King Henry had shook hands with death.
And will you pale your head in Henrys glory,
And rob his temples of the diadem,
Now in his life, against your holy oath?
O, tis a fault too too unpardonable!
Off with the crown; and, with the crown, his head,
And whilest we breathe, take time to do him dead.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

Julius Caesar (Act 2 Scene 1)

Portia

Is Brutus sick? And is it physical

To walk unbraced and suck up the humors
Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick?
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed
To dare the vile contagion of the night,
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus,
You have some sick offense within your mind,
Which, by the right and virtue of my place,
I ought to know of; and upon my knees
I charm you, by my once commended beauty,
By all your vows of love, and that great vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,
Why you are heavy, and what men tonight
Have had resort to you; for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.
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Julius Caesar (Act 2 Scene 1)

Portia

Y have ungently, Brutus,

Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supper
You suddenly arose and walkd about,
Musing and sighing, with your arms across;
And when I askd you what the matter was,
You stard upon me with ungentle looks.
I urgd you further; then you scratchd your head,
And too impatiently stampd with your foot.
Yet I insisted, yet you answerd not,
But with an angry wafter of your hand
Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
Which seemd too much enkindled; and withal
Hoping it was but an effect of humor,
Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep;
And could it work so much upon your shape
As it hath much prevaild on your condition,
I should not know you Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

Romeo & Juliet (Act 2 Scene 2)

Juliet

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
That villain cousin would have killd my husband.
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring,
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
My husband lives that Tybalt would have slain,
And Tybalts dead that would have slain my husband.
All this is comfort, wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalts death,
That murdred me; I would forget it fain,
But O, it presses to my memory
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners minds:
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.
That banished, that one word banished,
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalts death
Was woe enough if it had ended there;
Or if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rankd with other griefs,
Why followed not, when she said, Tybalts dead,
Thy father or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern lamentation might have moved?
But with a rearward following Tybalts death,
Romeo is banished: to speak that word,
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead: Romeo is banished!
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that words death, no words can that woe sound.
Where is my father and my mother, nurse?
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

Romeo & Juliet (Act 4 Scene 3)

Juliet

Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life.
Ill call them back again to comfort me.
Nurse!What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
Come, vial.
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?
No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there.

Laying down her dagger.

What if it be a poison which the friar

Subtly hath ministred to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonord
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear it is, and yet methinks it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man.
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? Theres a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or if I live, is it not very like
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where for this many hundred years the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are packd,
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festring in his shroud, where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
So early wakingwhat with loathsome smells,
And shrikes like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environed with all these hideous fears,
And madly play with my forefathers joints,
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud,
And in this rage, with some great kinsmans bone,
As with a club, dash out my desprate brains?
O, look! Methinks I see my cousins ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a rapiers point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!
Romeo, Romeo, Romeo! Heres drinkI drink to thee.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

She falls upon her bed, within the curtains.

Troilus & Cressida (Act 3 Scene 2)

Cressida

Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord,

With the first glance that everpardon me,
If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
I love you now, but till now not so much
But I might master it. In faith I lie,
My thoughts were like unbridled children grown
Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!
Why have I blabbd? Who shall be true to us,
When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
But though I lovd you well, I wood you not,
And yet, good faith, I wishd myself a man,
Or that we women had mens privilege
Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
For in this rapture I shall surely speak
The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel! Stop my mouth.

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King Lear (Act 1 Scene 3)

Goneril

By day and night he wrongs me, every hour

He flashes into one gross crime or other
That sets us all at odds. Ill not endure it.
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
I will not speak with him; say I am sick.
If you come slack of former services,
You shall do well; the fault of it Ill answer.

Horns within.

Put on what weary negligence you please,

You and your fellows; Id have it come to question.
If he distaste it, let him to my sister,
Whose mind and mine I know in that are one,
Not to be overruld. Idle old man,
That still would manage those authorities
That he hath given away! Now by my life
Old fools are babes again, and must be usd
With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abusd.
Remember what I have said.

And let his knights have colder looks among you;

What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so.
I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
That I may speak. Ill write straight to my sister
To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.
 Shakespeare Female Monologues

As You Like It (Act 3 Scene 5)

Phoebe

I would not be thy executioner;

I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
Thou tellst me there is murder in mine eye:
Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,
That eyes, that are the frailst and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers!
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swound; why, now fall down,
Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame,
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers!
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee;
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.