But what a genius I was! You cannot imagine what power I had, what eloquence; how graceful I was, how tender; how many strings 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. Is that bad, eh? 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!” Now, the part of the fool. Come take the fool’s part! Be quick, I can’t wait!

Svietlovidoff Monologue from Swan Song

Rehearse Svietlovidoff's monologue