Monologue

Vera Monologue

From Vera by Oscar Wilde

female · dark · 46 sec

I can trust my hand better with the dagger; it never fails. I shall stab him to the heart, as he has stabbed me. Traitor, to leave us for a ribbon, a gaud, a bauble, to lie to me every day he came here, to forget us in an hour. Michael was right, he loved me not, nor the people either. Methinks that if I was a mother and bore a man-child I would poison my breast to him, lest he might grow to a traitor or to a king.

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