Old Wife\u2019s Tale<\/p>\n
A Dramatic Monologue Exerpt from A Song After Living<\/em>\u00a9 1997 Douglas Hill<\/p>\n SCENE: Maternity ward waiting room, 1963. Door opens, agonized yelling off, as Madeleine enters.<\/em> Old Wife\u2019s Tale A Dramatic Monologue Published in Monologues Selected from Playwrights Union of Canada 1996-1997 International Monologue Competition (PUC Play Service) First Chapbook Publication 1998 Exerpt from A Song After Living\u00a9 1997 Douglas Hill SCENE: Maternity ward waiting room, … Continue reading
\nPublished in Monologues<\/em> Selected from Playwrights Union of Canada 1996-1997 International Monologue Competition (PUC Play Service) First Chapbook Publication 1998<\/p>\n
\nMadeleine: (Enter, to sit near a nervous young man, and knit.)<\/em> Your first? Well, I just come up from seein\u2019 my daughter. She\u2019s havin\u2019 her third \u2014 without anaesthesia. Allergic, you know. They took her downstairs, she was makin\u2019 so much noise. You go into that stairwell over there, you\u2019ll hear her screamin\u2019. You\u2019d think with it bein\u2019 her third and all it\u2019d be faster this time. Somethin\u2019 wrong there. My third was just like squattin\u2019 for a shit.
\nSee him? That\u2019s Dr. Hamilton. Fixed my varicross veins. Awful. Like havin\u2019 a dog gnaw your leg all the time. Like worms crawlin\u2019 all down the back of my thighs, here. Not pretty. Ruins a woman\u2019s body havin\u2019 all them kids, you know. My daughter, now. Gets these awful cramps \u2014 bleeds like a stuck pig, too. I go to her place, she\u2019s got the curse, well I just turn around and leave, believe you me \u2014 and labour cramps \u2014 somethin\u2019 wrong with her plumbin\u2019 if you ask me. Hear her just then, when they opened the door? But you\u2019re a new young father-to-be, I\u2019ll bet \u2014 with enough on your mind.
\nStrange how many babies are born on the full moon, though. All mine, all my daughter\u2019s. There: when the door opened? That\u2019s her, screamin\u2019 her vocal cords out. Her last \u2014 little Hector \u2014 almost died on the table. Two and a half now; had the chicken pox last summer: face like a can of worms\u00a0\u2014 and the diaper area, well you wouldn\u2019t want to see that. I have a snapshot of it somewheres. Anyways, he almost died at birth. Umbilical around the neck. Baby blue as that ashtray over there, without a word of a lie. I think it\u2019s kind of stupid as a result, but you can\u2019t tell her that. My last was Cesarian, you know. Stitches from here to here. Scar so big and red and jagged my husband hates to look at me naked any more. Calls me Scar Belly. You\u2019d laugh! But he don\u2019t seem to mind me in the dark! Awful toll on a woman\u2019s body, though.
\nDr. Hamilton. My, my. Good doctor. Cured my neighbour of a boil on her forehead, size of your eyeball. Had to lance it. Squirted across the room. Fountain o\u2019 puss. You look kinda pale. Why don\u2019t you get up and walk or somethin\u2019? Help you get your breathin\u2019 goin\u2019. Well. Better see how my daughter\u2019s comin\u2019 along. Could be hours. Nice talkin\u2019 to you. Hope it comes out all right. I can still hear her screamin\u2019. But I guess I should go down. Wish I could stay and keep you cheered up, you look like you need it. But I\u2019d better go. Remember, do as I do: always look on the bright side. See you. (Screaming off, as Madeleine opens the door.)<\/em> That\u2019s her. (Exit.)<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"