He only thinks he's serious because he reads books all day long. And she married him, and he's turned out to be most awfully dull. And I'm most awfully sorry for her. He treats her like a bit of furniture. Isn't it funny the way the soul will fall in love... and with the most unaccountable people; and you know how you say "I can't think what she sees in the man...." But a god can see... and an artist. And Harlequin's a bit of both. So when he comes along... Uncle, the rest of it isn't a very nice story. Will they mind? (UNCLE EDWARD: They? They'll like it all the better.) Well, you see the husband being so dull, she wants somebody to take her out and show her things and be attentive. And there's the Man of the World. And things are getting rather serious. For Cousin Clown and Uncle Pantaloon aren't any use. They're just stupid and friendly and nice, like all one's country cousins. But just in time comes Harlequin-Mercury. He has no wings left to his feet, because you wear off wings rather soon if you wander about the world. And his wand hasn't any snakes left. It's just painted white wood. And it's a good thing we've come to the jokes about the sausages, because, now Harlequin's only a strolling player, he's sometimes awfully hungry. (UNCLE EDWARD: Very true. Are they ready?) I'll see. [So she turns and sticks her head through the curtains. Yes.

Alice Monologue from The Harlequinade: An Excursion

Rehearse Alice's monologue