Monologue

The Friend Monologue from Festival Plays: One-Act Pieces

From Festival Plays: One-Act Pieces by Marguerite Merington

any · philosophical · 47 sec

In name Of Christos, too, my country far away Is signed. Strange customs, though, with us obtain. A slave, the meaner is his task and hard, The lowlier his spirit, so his rank We hold exalted! By oppression crushed His heart? With love we seek to heal it, arm Anew with hope! His wealth who gives away To feed God’s poor our richest citizen We count! To dry the tears of sorrow kings Contend! Our rod of empire is the rule— The golden rule—Judge none, while loving all!

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