Stiver Monologue from Love's Comedy

From Love's Comedy by Henrik Ibsen

male · contemplative · 1:17 min

Of course. (FALK: And you bade the Muse farewell?) I've felt no lyric impulse, truth to tell, From that day forth. My vein appeared to peter Entirely out; and now, if I essay To turn a verse or two for New Year's Day, I make the veriest hash of rhyme and metre, And--I've no notion what the cause can be-- It turns to law and not to poetry. GULDSTAD (clinks glasses with him). And trust me, you're no whit the worse for that! [To Falk. You think the stream of life is flowing solely To bear you to the goal you're aiming at-- But here I lodge a protest energetic, Say what you will, against its wretched moral. A masterly economy and new To let the birds play havoc at their pleasure Among your fruit-trees, fruitless now for you, And suffer flocks and herds to trample through Your garden, and lay waste its springtide treasure! A pretty prospect, truly, for next year!

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