Harold Perrineau Monologues

If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking and you beat love down.

That dreamers often lie.

O! Then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and comes in a shape no bigger than an agate-stone, on the fore-finger of an alderman, drawn with a little team of atomies, over men's noses as they lie asleep. Her chariot is an empty hazelnut. Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat. And in this state, she gallops, night by night, through lovers' brains and then they dream of... love! O'er lawyers fingers who straight dream on fees. Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats. And then, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two and sleeps again.

This is the hag, when maids lie on their BACKS, that presses them! And learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage! This is she! THIS IS SHE!

A plague o' both your houses! They have made worms' meat of me.

Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.

By my heel, I care not.

If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking and you beat love down.

Good King of Cats, only one of your nine lives!