Monologue

Old Man In The Tower Monologue from Lucky Pehr

From Lucky Pehr by August Strindberg

male · dark · 2:09 min

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Now the elf shall have his Christmas porridge. And this year he has earned it honestly--twice he awakened me when I fell asleep and forgot the tower shutters; once he rang the bell when fire broke loose. Merry Christmas, Elf! and many of them. (Takes up rat-trap and sets it.) Here's your Christmas mess, Satan's rats! (A VOICE: Curse not Christmas!) I believe there are spirits about to-night--Ugh! it's the cold increasing; then the beams always creak, like an old ship. Here's your Christmas supper. Now perhaps you'll quit gnawing the bell-rope and eating up the tallow, you accursed pest! (A VOICE: Curse not Christmas!) The spooks are at it again! Christmas eve--yes, yes! (Places rat-trap on the floor.) There! Now they have their portion. And now comes the turn of the feathered wretches. They must have grain, of course, so they can soil the tin roof for me. Such is life! The church wardens pay for it, so it's not my affair. But if I were to ask for an extra shilling two in wages--that they couldn't afford. That wouldn't be seen! But when one sticks out a grain-sheaf on a pole once a year, it looks generous. Ah, that one is a fine fellow!--and generosity is a virtue. Now, if we were to share and share alike, I should get back my porridge, which I gave to the elf. (Shakes sheaf and gathers the grain into a bowl.)

About this piece

60 and up · disgust · isolation · power · generosity · madness

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