Pehr Monologue from Lucky Pehr

From Lucky Pehr by August Strindberg

male · contemplative · 1:18 min

So this is the forest, whither my thoughts have so often flown through the clear air, and this is the snow! Now I want to throw snowballs, as I've seen school boys do. It is supposed to be something uncommonly amusing. (He takes up some snow and casts a few snowballs.) H-m! That's not so wonderful! Once again--I think it almost stupid. But what is it that plays up in the tree tops? The wind--Ah, it sounds rather well. Zoo, zoo, zoo! But one grows sleepy if one listens to that long. Zoo, zoo, zoo! Now it sounds like the gnats on a summer's evening. Strange how short everything is out here in Nature! The dullness in the tower--that was long! Now it's not at all pretty or amusing. (Sees brook.) Why, what is this? Ice! What pleasure can one get from that? Ah, now I remember--one can skate on it. I must try that! (He goes out on the brook; slides; ice cracks; he falls from fright and lies there, stunned.) (Enter Lisa.)

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