Monologue

Mrs Erlynne Monologue from Lady Windermere's Fan

From Lady Windermere's Fan by Oscar Wilde

female · contemplative · 1:56 min

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To bid good-bye to my dear daughter, of course. Oh, don’t imagine I am going to have a pathetic scene with her, weep on her neck and tell her who I am, and all that kind of thing. I have no ambition to play the part of a mother. Only once in my life have I known a mother’s feelings. That was last night. They were terrible—they made me suffer—they made me suffer too much. For twenty years, as you say, I have lived childless,—I want to live childless still. Besides, my dear Windermere, how on earth could I pose as a mother with a grown-up daughter? Margaret is twenty-one, and I have never admitted that I am more than twenty-nine, or thirty at the most. Twenty-nine when there are pink shades, thirty when there are not. So you see what difficulties it would involve. No, as far as I am concerned, let your wife cherish the memory of this dead, stainless mother. Why should I interfere with her illusions? I find it hard enough to keep my own. I lost one illusion last night. I thought I had no heart. I find I have, and a heart doesn’t suit me, Windermere. Somehow it doesn’t go with modern dress. It makes one look old. And it spoils one’s career at critical moments.

About this piece

Mrs. Erlynne reflects on her relationship with her daughter and her own identity as a mother, revealing her reluctance to embrace traditional maternal roles.

40s · melancholy · identity · family · illusion · ambition

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