A monologue from the play by Frank Wedekind
WENDLA
Why have you made my dress so long, Mother? If I‟d known you were going to make my dress as long as that I‟d rather have stayed thirteen.
The little girl-dress suits me better than that old sack. Let me wear it a little longer, Mother! Just for the summer!
This penitential robe will keep. Hold it till my next birthday. I‟d only trip on it now! Who knows? Maybe I won‟t be around.
Oh, Mother, please don‟t be sad! Such ideas come to me in the evening when I can‟t go to sleep. And I don‟t feel sad, either.
I know I‟ll sleep all the better. Is it sinful to think of such things, Mother? Oh Mother, a girl doesn‟t get diphtheria in the back of her knees, why so fainthearted?
You don‟t feel the cold at my age, „specially not in the legs. And would it be any better if I was too hot, Mother?
You can think yourself lucky if one fine morning your little precious doesn‟t cut her sleeves off or come home in the evening without shoes and stockings.
When I wear my penitential robe I‟ll be dressed like the queen of the fairies underneath…. Don‟t scold, Mother darling. No one will ever see it!
