Monologue

Oswald Monologue from Ghosts

From Ghosts by Henrik Ibsen

male · anguished · 33 sec

Don't refuse me, mother. Do be kind, now! I must have something to wash down all these gnawing thoughts. And then--it's so dark here! And this ceaseless rain! It may go on week after week, for months together. Never to get a glimpse of the sun! I can't recollect ever having seen the sun shine all the times I've been at home.

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