Marg Monologue from Literature

From Literature by Arthur Schnitzler

female · defiant · 55 sec

How did you hit upon such an insane idea? To publish the correspondence of a woman whom, in all sincerity, you professed to have loved! Oh, you're no gentleman. (Gil: Quite charming. Haven't you done the same?) I'm a woman. (Gil: Do you take refuge in that now?) Oh, it's true. I have nothing to reproach you with. We were made for one another. Yes, Clement was right. We're worse than those women who appear in flesh-colored tights. Our most sacred feelings, our pangs—everything—we make copy of everything. Pfui! Pfui! It's sickening. We two belong to one another. Clement would only be doing what is right if he drove me away. (Suddenly.) Come, Amandus.

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