THE WIDOW OF WASDALE HEAD
A monologue from the
play by Arthur
Wing Pinero
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Representative One-Act Plays by British and Irish Authors.
Ed. Barrett H. Clark. Boston: Little, Brown, and Co., 1921. |
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MRS. JESMOND: No, no, Hal! Listen! Oh, listen! Hal
-- Hal, when the grave closed over thee, I did indeed believe
that I was done with love forever, and that my heart was but
a dry and withered plant; but, oh, there are seasons when it
will persist in putting forth green shoots, and when I find strange
hopes and joys quickening within me that are unbefitting a woman
that is devoted to the memory of her dead husband! Alas, Harry,
'twas at such a time that Mr. Fane came upon me! Though 'twas
in January that he alighted at my door, the sun was shining in
the valley, and our robins were chirping and there was a tremble
of Spring in the air; and 'twas then, when he had crossed my
threshold and I filled him a cup of wine, and faced him while
he drank -- 'twas then that I felt those green shoots in my breast
burst and spread their leaves. [Wildly.] But, oh, my dear,
he is going, as you are informed -- he is going! -- and 'tis
not likely that he will come my way again, nor that another young
man of his rank and character will ever resort to this lonely
inn. And so you must pardon me this one stumble; and by all that
I hold most sacred, Hal ... wait! Harry? Come back! I love thee!
I swear I love thee!
MORE MONOLOGUES BY ARTHUR WING PINERO |
