Monologue

Martin Doul Monologue from The Well of the Saints: A Comedy in Three Acts

From The Well of the Saints: A Comedy in Three Acts by J. M. (John Millington) Synge

male · anguished · 1:26 min

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querulously, as he cuts slowly. — What way, indeed, Timmy? For it’s a raw, beastly day we do have each day, till I do be thinking it’s well for the blind don’t be seeing them gray clouds driving on the hill, and don’t be looking on people with their noses red, the like of your nose, and their eyes weeping and watering, the like of your eyes, God help you, Timmy the smith. (TIMMY: seen blinking in doorway. — Is it turning now you are against your sight?) very miserably. — It’s a hard thing for a man to have his sight, and he living near to the like of you (he cuts a stick and throws it away), or wed with a wife (cuts a stick); and I do be thinking it should be a hard thing for the Almighty God to be looking on the world, bad days, and on men the like of yourself walking around on it, and they slipping each way in the muck.

About this piece

40s · sadness · isolation · identity · suffering · faith

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