Hjalmar Monologue from The Wild Duck

From The Wild Duck by Henrik Ibsen

male · anguished · 48 sec

Don’t be so sure of that. Suppose they stood there with their hands full, beckoning her---- Ah! I, who have loved her beyond all words! I, who would have found my greatest joy in taking her tenderly by the hand and guiding her as one guides a child frightened at the darkness, through some wild desolate space! Now I feel the gnawing certainty--the poor photographer in his attic-home has never been anything wholly and completely to her. She has only been cunning enough to keep on good terms with him until the right time should come.

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