Stranger Monologue from To Damascus

From To Damascus by August Strindberg

male · anguished · 52 sec

That's nothing; I want to see them! What one says is mostly worthless. May I read them? No, I see I mayn't. You want nothing more from me. Your face tells me enough. Now you've sucked me dry, eaten me hollow, killed my ego, my personality. To that I answer: how, my beloved? Have _I_ killed your ego, when I wanted to give you the whole of mine; when I let you skim the cream off my bowl, that I'd filled with all the experience of along life, with incursions into the deserts and groves of knowledge and art?

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