THE MOB – Monologue (Helen)

A monologue from the play by John Galsworthy

NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Mob. John Galsworthy. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1914.


I’ve seen–a vision! I’d just fallen asleep, and I saw a plain that seemed to run into the sky–like–that fog.

And on it there were–dark things. One grew into a body without a head, and a gun by its side. And one was a man sitting huddled up,

nursing a wounded leg. He had the face of Hubert’s servant, Wreford. And then I saw–Hubert.

His face was all dark and thin; and he had–a wound, an awful wound here. [She touches her breast] 

The blood was running from it, and he kept trying to stop it–oh! Kit–by kissing it. Then I heard Wreford laugh, and say vultures didn’t touch live bodies.

And there came a voice, from somewhere, calling out:

“Oh, God! I’m dying!” And Wreford began to swear at it, and I heard Hubert say: “Don’t, Wreford; let the poor fellow be!”

But the voice went on and on, moaning and crying out: “I’ll lie here all night dying–and then I’ll die!” And Wreford dragged himself along the ground;

his face all devilish, like a man who’s going to kill. Still that voice went on, and I saw Wreford take up the dead man’s gun.

Then Hubert got upon his feet, and went tottering along, so feebly, so dreadfully–but before he could reach and stop him,

Wreford fired at the man who was crying. And Hubert called out: “You brute!” and fell right down. And when Wreford saw him lying there,

he began to moan and sob, but Hubert never stirred. Then it all got black again–and I could see a dark woman-thing creeping, first to the man without a head;

then to Wreford; then to Hubert, and it touched him, and sprang away, and it cried out. [Pause–strangely calm]

He’s dead.

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