Could I give up the dread of retribution, The awful reck'ning of some future day, Like surly Hateall I might curse mankind, And dare the threat'ned vengeance of the skies. Or like yon apostate---- [Pointing to HAZLEROD, retired to a corner to read Massachusettensis. Feel but slight remorse To sell my country for a grasp of gold. But the impressions of my early youth, Infix'd by precepts of my pious sire, Are stings and scorpions in my goaded breast; Oft have I hung upon my parent's knee And heard him tell of his escape from France; He left the land of slaves, and wooden shoes; From place to place he sought a safe retreat, Till fair Bostonia stretch'd her friendly arm And gave the refugee both bread and peace: (Shall I ungrateful 'rase the sacred bonds, And help to clank the tyrant's iron chains O'er these blest shores--once the sure asylum From all the ills of arbitrary sway?) With his expiring breath he bade his sons, If e'er oppression reach'd the western world, Resist its force, and break the servile yoke.

Monsieur Monologue from The Group: A Farce

Rehearse Monsieur's monologue