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| Character | Eleanor | |
|---|---|---|
| Gender | Male | |
| Age Range(s) | Young Adult (20-35), Adult (36-50), Senior (>50) | |
| Type of monologue / Character is | Persuasive, Descriptive, Depressed, Lamenting, Complaining, Afraid, Reminiscing life story/Telling a story | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Period | Renaissance | |
| Genre | Historical, Drama | |
| Props | A candle | |
| Description | Eleanor tells Gloucester that everybody hates her | |
| Location | ACT II, Scene 4 | |
Summary
Eleanor is the wife of Gloucester, the Protector of England. She has been arrested for conspiring against King Henry VI by consulting a witch. She is banished from the Kingdom and for penance she has to walk around London barefoot with her crimes written on papers pinned all over her dress.
In this monologue she tells her husband how everybody looks at her with hate. She argues that as being the wife of the Protector of England she shouldn't be punished this way. She finally tells Gloucester that his fall will come soon as Beaufort, Suffolk and Somerset are planning his downfall
In this monologue she tells her husband how everybody looks at her with hate. She argues that as being the wife of the Protector of England she shouldn't be punished this way. She finally tells Gloucester that his fall will come soon as Beaufort, Suffolk and Somerset are planning his downfall
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
|---|
| DUCHESS Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! See how the giddy multitude do point, And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! GLOUCESTER Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. DUCHESS Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! For whilst I think I am thy married wife And thou a prince, protector of this land, Methinks I should not thus be led along, Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back, And followed with a rabble that rejoice To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, And when I start, the envious people laugh And bid me be advised how I tread. Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world, Or count them happy that enjoy the sun? No; dark shall be my light and night my day; To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife, And he a prince and ruler of the land: Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock To every idle rascal follower. But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will; For Suffolk, he that can do all in all With her that hateth thee and hates us all, And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings, And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee: But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared, Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. |
