Stranger Monologue from To Damascus

From To Damascus by August Strindberg

male · anguished · 1:10 min

Quiet! I know what you mean. One night... one dreadful, horrible night... Sylvia, my child, when I shut my eyes I see a pale little angel, who slept in my arms when she was ill; and who thanked me when I gave her a present. Where is she whom I long for so and who exists no more, although she isn't dead? You, as you are, seem a stranger, whom I've never known and certainly don't long to see again. If Sylvia at least were dead and lay in her grave, there'd be a churchyard where I could take my flowers.... How strange it is! She's neither among the living, nor the dead. Perhaps she never existed, and was only a dream like everything else. DAUGHTER .Father, dear!

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