Mrs Monologue from The Boor

From The Boor by Anton Tchekoff

female · anguished · 55 sec

Popov. Please, don't speak of these things to me again. You know very well that since the death of Nikolai Michailovitch my life is absolutely nothing to me. You think I live, but it only seems that I live. Do you understand? Oh, that his departed soul may see how I love him—Oh, I know, it's no secret to you; he was often unjust towards me, cruel and—he wasn't faithful, but I shall be faithful to the grave and prove to him how I am able to love. There, in the beyond, he'll find me the same, as I was until his death.

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