OMOO
A monologue from the
novel by Herman Melville
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Omoo: A Narrative of Adventures In The South Seas.
Herman Melville. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1847. |
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NARRATOR: I think it was the second day of our confinement
that a wild, beautiful girl burst into the Calabooza, and, throwing
herself into an arch attitude, stood afar off, and gazed at us.
She was a heartless one:--tickled to death with Black Dan's nursing
his chafed ankle, and indulging in certain moral reflections
on the consul and Captain Guy. After laughing her fill at him,
she condescended to notice the rest; glancing from one to another
in the most methodical and provoking manner imaginable. Whenever
anything struck her comically, you saw it like a flash--her finger
levelled instantaneously, and, flinging herself back, she gave
loose to strange, hollow little notes of laughter, that sounded
like the bass of a music-box, playing a lively air with the lid
down. Now, I knew not that there was anything in my own appearance
calculated to disarm ridicule; and indeed, to have looked at
all heroic, under the circumstances, would have been rather difficult.
Still, I could not but feel exceedingly annoyed at the prospect
of being screamed at, in turn, by this mischievous young witch,
even though she were but an islander. And, to tell a secret,
her beauty had something to do with this sort of feeling; and,
pinioned as I was to a log, and clad most unbecomingly, I began
to grow sentimental. Ere her glance fell upon me, I had, unconsciously,
thrown myself into the most graceful attitude I could assume,
leaned my head upon my hand, and summoned up as abstracted an
expression as possible. Though my face was averted, I soon felt
it flush, and knew that the glance was on me; deeper and deeper
grew the flush, and not a sound of laughter. Delicious thought!
she was moved at the sight of me. I could stand it no longer,
but started up. Lo! there she was; her great hazel eyes rounding
and rounding in her head, like two stars, her whole frame in
a merry quiver, and an expression about the mouth that was sudden
and violent death to anything like sentiment. The next moment
she spun round, and, bursting from peal to peal of laughter,
went racing out of the Calabooza; and, in mercy to me, never
returned.
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MONOLOGUES BY HERMAN MELVILLE |
