Monologue

Borkman Monologue from John Gabriel Borkman

From John Gabriel Borkman by Henrik Ibsen

male · anguished · 1:33 min

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It is not murder. It is not robbery or house-breaking. It is not even perjury. For all these things people do to those they hate, or who are indifferent to them, and do not matter. (FOLDAL: What is the worst of all then, John Gabriel?) (With emphasis.) The most infamous of crimes is a friend's betrayal of his friend's confidence. (FOLDAL: Yes, but you know----) (Firing up.) What are you going to say? I see it in your face. But it is of no use. The people who had their securities in the bank should have got them all back again--every farthing. No; I tell you the most infamous crime a man can commit is to misuse a friend's letters; to publish to all the world what has been confided to him alone, in the closest secrecy, like a whisper in an empty, dark, double-locked room. The man who can do such things is infected and poisoned in every fibre with the morals of the higher rascality. And such a friend was mine--and it was he who crushed me.

About this piece

Borkman confronts the betrayal of a once-trusted friend, expressing his deep anger and sense of injustice over the misuse of personal confidences.

40s · anger · betrayal · friendship · trust · crime

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