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A monologue from the play by Niccolo Machiavelli (Adapted by Walter Wykes)
NOTE: This monologue is reprinted with the author’s permission. All inquiries should be directed to the author at: sandmaster@aol.com
SYRO
If every rich guy was this stupid, I’d be running the show in no time! I mean, holy crap! What a dope! I could tell him anything! Absolutely anything! Have him running him around in circles!
Do this, Calfucci! All the “it” people are doing it! Wear this! Buy that! Go there! I’d have him twisted like a pretzel! Not like Callimaco. Can’t pull much over on him. My “master!” Hah!
He’s not one of them. Not really. He’s … more like me. A co-conspirator. He wants to blow things up! Torpedo the ark! Start all over! He has no respect for Calfucci. None.
He’s leading him toward a cliff. A steep one, if you ask me. Something to do with his wife. That’ll be quite a fall. Not that I feel sorry for the old goat. I mean, I’d love to watch him lose everything.
He doesn’t deserve a wife like that. Just because he’s got a lot of money. It pisses me off. What are us poor motherf***ers supposed to do? We get to choose from all the nasty girls?
And what do you think happens if Callimaco gets caught? He won’t go down for it. Not him! He’s a respected member of society! It’ll be me! That’s right! I’ll do the time!
Fortunately, he’s a pro. He knows what he’s doing. Ligurio too. They won’t get busted. Still, I’d like to know what their plan is. It makes me nervous. Impersonating a doctor.
I mean, if that’s the first step … what’s next?
