Monologue

Svietlovidoff Monologue from Swan Song

From Swan Song by Anton Chekhov

male · anguished · 1:56 min

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But what a genius I was! You cannot imagine what power I had, what eloquence; how graceful I was, how tender; how many strings (beats his breast) quivered in this breast! It chokes me to think of it! Listen now, wait, let me catch my breath, there; now listen to this: “The shade of bloody Ivan now returning Fans through my lips rebellion to a flame, I am the dead Dimitri! In the burning Boris shall perish on the throne I claim. Enough! The heir of Czars shall not be seen Kneeling to yonder haughty Polish Queen!”* *From “Boris Godunoff,” by Pushkin. (translator’s note) Is that bad, eh? (Quickly) Wait, now, here’s something from King Lear. The sky is black, see? Rain is pouring down, thunder roars, lightning--zzz zzz zzz--splits the whole sky, and then, listen: “Blow winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes spout Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks! You sulphurous thought-executing fires Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts Singe my white head! And thou, all shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world! Crack nature’s moulds, all germons spill at once That make ungrateful man!” (Impatiently) Now, the part of the fool. (Stamps his foot) Come take the fool’s part! Be quick, I can’t wait!

About this piece

Svietlovidoff reflects on his past brilliance and the power of his words, expressing a deep yearning for his former self and the heights of his artistic expression.

40s · longing · identity · power · ambition · madness

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