Monologue

Smirnov Monologue from THE BOOR

From THE BOOR by ANTON TCHEKOV

male · defiant · 1:18 min

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March! Ill and isn't receiving! All right, it isn't necessary. I won't receive, either! I'll sit here and stay until you bring that money. If you're ill a week, I'll sit here a week. If you're ill a year, I'll sit here a year. As Heaven is my witness, I'll get the money. You don't disturb me with your mourning--or with your dimples. We know these dimples! Simon, unharness! We aren't going to leave right away. I am going to stay here. Tell them in the stable to give the horses some oats. The left horse has twisted the bridle again. Stop! I'll show you how. Stop! It's awful. Unbearable heat, no money, didn't sleep last night and now--mourning-dresses with moods. My head aches; perhaps I ought to have a drink. Ye-s, I must have a drink. Servant!

About this piece

Smirnov is resolutely waiting for a debt to be paid, expressing frustration over the situation while dealing with his own discomfort and the oppressive heat.

30s · determination · power · isolation · money

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