Monologue

Rosmer Monologue from Rosmersholm

From Rosmersholm by Henrik Ibsen

male · anguished · 1:22 min

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I shall never conquer this completely. There will always be a doubt confronting me--a question. I shall never again be able to lose myself in the enjoyment of what makes life so wonderfully beautiful. (Rebecca: What do you mean, John?) Calm and happy innocence. (Rebecca: Of course. Innocence.) How ingeniously--how systematically--she must have put one thing together with another! First of all she begins to have a suspicion as to my orthodoxy. How on earth did she get that idea in her mind? Any way, she did; and the idea grew into a certainty. And then--then, of course, it was easy for her to think everything else possible. (Sits up in his chair and, runs his hands through his hair.) The wild fancies I am haunted with! I shall never get quit of them. I am certain of that--certain. They will always be starting up before me to remind me of the dead.

About this piece

30s · despair · death · identity · isolation · madness

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