Monologue

Tresham Monologue from A Blot in the 'Scutcheon

From A Blot in the 'Scutcheon by Robert Browning

male · anguished · 1:36 min

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Something does weigh down My neck beside her weight: thanks: I should fall But for you, Austin, I believe!--there, there, 'Twill pass away soon!--ah,--I had forgotten: I am dying. (GUENDOLEN: Thorold--Thorold--why was this?) I said, just as I drank the poison off, The earth would be no longer earth to me, The life out of all life was gone from me. There are blind ways provided, the fore-done Heart-weary player in this pageant-world Drops out by, letting the main masque defile By the conspicuous portal: I am through-- Just through! (GUENDOLEN: Don't leave him, Austin! Death is close.) Already Mildred's face is peacefuller, I see you, Austin--feel you; here's my hand, Put yours in it--you, Guendolen, yours too! You're lord and lady now--you're Treshams; name And fame are yours: you hold our 'scutcheon up. Austin, no blot on it! You see how blood Must wash one blot away: the first blot came And the first blood came. To the vain world's eye All's gules again: no care to the vain world, From whence the red was drawn!

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30s · despair · death · honor · identity · redemption

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