A monologue from the play by Henrik Ibsen

Adapted by Walter Wykes

  • NOTE: This monologue is reprinted with the author's permission. All inquiries should be directed to the author at: sandmaster@aol.com
  • RUBEK: Come and live with us--in the villa. You can set your swans swimming in the brook ... we can talk of old times ... you can open all that is locked up in me--as you did in our days of creation. I beg of you, Irene--give me this one chance to live my life over again. Help me undo my greatest mistake. When you left, Irene ... when you disappeared ... I cannot express to you ... I was filled with such regret. I became painfully aware of all that I had left unsaid ... all the moments I had allowed to pass ... without ... without grasping them ... without ... I had come to think of you as something sacred, you see ... something holy ... a gift from God ... a creature of innocence not to be touched save in adoring thoughts. A superstition took hold of me that if I touched you ... if I desired you with my senses ... my soul would be desecrated, and I would not be able to finish my work. I was a fool! An idealistic young fool! I should have taken you in my arms right then and there--on the floor of my studio, I should have taken you! With the clay still on my fingers! It would only have added to the beauty of the child--to the depth and complexity of her meaning--of her mystery. [Pause.] I can't lose you again, Irene--I don't think I could survive it.