THE MOB

A monologue from the play by John Galsworthy


  • NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Mob. John Galsworthy. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1914.
  • HELEN: I've seen--a vision! I'd just fallen asleep, and I saw a plain that seemed to run into the sky--like--that fog. And on it there were--dark things. One grew into a body without a head, and a gun by its side. And one was a man sitting huddled up, nursing a wounded leg. He had the face of Hubert's servant, Wreford. And then I saw--Hubert. His face was all dark and thin; and he had--a wound, an awful wound here. [She touches her breast] The blood was running from it, and he kept trying to stop it--oh! Kit--by kissing it. Then I heard Wreford laugh, and say vultures didn't touch live bodies. And there came a voice, from somewhere, calling out: "Oh, God! I'm dying!" And Wreford began to swear at it, and I heard Hubert say: "Don't, Wreford; let the poor fellow be!" But the voice went on and on, moaning and crying out: "I'll lie here all night dying--and then I'll die!" And Wreford dragged himself along the ground; his face all devilish, like a man who's going to kill. Still that voice went on, and I saw Wreford take up the dead man's gun. Then Hubert got upon his feet, and went tottering along, so feebly, so dreadfully--but before he could reach and stop him, Wreford fired at the man who was crying. And Hubert called out: "You brute!" and fell right down. And when Wreford saw him lying there, he began to moan and sob, but Hubert never stirred. Then it all got black again--and I could see a dark woman-thing creeping, first to the man without a head; then to Wreford; then to Hubert, and it touched him, and sprang away, and it cried out. [Pause--strangely calm] He's dead.

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