We'll remain abroad. One can live unobserved abroad, without actually hiding. We'll find an ideal retreat. No more English tourists prying around us! And there, in some beautiful spot, alone except for your company, I'll work! I'll work. My new career! I'll write under a nom de plume. My books, Agnes, shall never ride to popularity on the back of a scandal. Our life! The mornings I must spend by myself, of course, shut up in my room. In the afternoon we will walk together. After dinner you shall hear what I've written in the morning; and then a few turns round our pretty garden, a glance at the stars with my arms round your waist----while you whisper to me words of tenderness, words of-- Ah! Keep your shawl over your shoulders. Some mandolinisti in a gondola. How pretty, Agnes! Now, don't those mere sounds, in such surroundings, give you a sensation of hatred for revolt and turmoil! Don't they conjure up alluringly pictures of peace and pleasure, of golden days and star-lit nights--pictures of beauty and love?

Lucas Monologue from The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith

Rehearse Lucas's monologue