Well--did you ever read of John Thorold--"Jack Thorold, the demagogue?" I daresay not. John Thorold, once a schoolmaster, was my father. In my time he used to write for the two or three, so-called, inflammatory journals, and hold forth in small lecture-halls, occasionally even from the top of a wooden stool in the Park, upon trade and labour questions, division of wealth, and the rest of it. He believed in nothing that people who go to church are credited with believing in, Mrs. Thorpe; his scheme for the readjustment of things was Force; his pet doctrine, the ultimate healthy healing that follows the surgery of Revolution. But to me he was the gentlest creature imaginable; and I was very fond of him, in spite of his--as I then thought--strange ideas. Strange ideas! Ha! Many of 'em luckily don't sound quite so irrational today!

Agnes Monologue from The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith

Rehearse Agnes's monologue