Hateall Monologue from The Group: A Farce

From The Group: A Farce by Mercy Otis Warren

male · dark · 1:16 min

They shall--as sure as oaths or bond can bind; I've boldly sent my new-born brat abroad, Th' association of my morbid brain, To which each minion must affix his name, As all our hope depends on brutal force, On quick destruction, misery, and death; Soon may we see dark ruin stalk around, With murder, rapine, and inflicted pains; Estates confiscate, slav'ry, and despair, Wrecks, halters, axes, gibbeting and chains, All the dread ills that wait on civil war;---- How I could glut my vengeful eyes to see The weeping maid thrown helpless on the world, Her sire cut off.--Her orphan brothers stand, While the big tear rolls down the manly cheek. Robb'd of maternal care by grief's keen shaft, The sorrowing mother mourns her starving babes, Her murder'd lord torn guiltless from her side, And flees for shelter to the pitying grave To screen at once from slavery and pain.

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