Pant Monologue from Turandot: The Chinese Sphinx

From Turandot: The Chinese Sphinx by Friedrich Schiller

male · comedic · 1:15 min

(to KALAF, confidentially)-- Believe me, if so please your Majesty-- (I mean your Majesty that is to be.) Your future wife's ill-temper there's no bearing; Her tantrums and hysterics are quite wearing. A hundred times I was called up last night To try and set this knotty question right. I'd scarcely time my slippers to resume, Much less to dress in proper court costume. I just popped on my crimson satin breeches,-- I fear I caught a cold; (sneezes) must put on leeches, A blister p'raps--take horrid water-gruel. ((Blows, his nose portentously.)) No breakfast yet I've swallowed 'Tis too cruel! Who'd be Prime Minister? to starve and toil, And fret and fume in an eternal coil. But yet, I would not, for a hundred dollar Have missed the sight of her rampagious choler; I was rejoiced my turn had come to grin, Just as folks do at me when Harlequin Before my nose runs off with Columbine, In every stupid Christmas pantomime.

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