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Blanche monologue

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Between Scene 8 and 9

[A quarter of an hour after Blanche’s birthday dinner has concluded, following the departure of Stanley and Stella to the hospital, Blanche wearing her Red Satin robe is curled up in her bed sobbing silently to herself. On the small table side beside her is a bottle half full of liquor and an overturned cup. The little radio sitting on the sill separating the two bedrooms plays a fast-tempo Polka tune, while Blanche drinks to escape the inevitable sense of danger and disaster that envelops her. She turned on the electric fan in hopes of ridding herself of her nerves and fears, but to no avail. The music continues to play in her head to the point of being unbearable causing her to pour herself another shot.]

“Is there something wrong with me? I am a worthy woman of love and life, am I not? Why, why can’t Mitch see this? Yes I tell fibs, but does not everyone fib to get want they want? I want some kind of magic, to turn my life around. While this may sounds foolish to most, it is the only hope I have of obtaining love. I do misrepresent things. I do not tell truths. I tell what ought to be truth. Some people may not like what ought to be said, but that, I believe is crueler than the real truth. Am I not precious or valuable enough to receive a man’s love and have a comfortable and carefree life?
Why am I not fortunate enough to find this precious and coveted love? A love that I believe I will forever be searching for. Everyone and everything I have loved I have lost. My poor father and mother, Belle Reve, and now Mitch. While it is not final I know what will happen, for I have no luck when it comes to love. First my poor, dear, young husband. Why, oh why did his death have to occur? If he had not died I would not have to face this cruel and ugly world alone. The only way I know how to survive is to, well, fib.
But how am I to keep this up when I know I have been discovered? Stanley, oh that barbarian, his endless cruelty and viscous, inappropriate, savage remarks that he makes to me every time I open my mouth or enter a room. He thinks he know me. He thinks he knows everything about everyone and everything. He thinks he knows what I have suffered through and thinks, no, knows that I have no right to be here in his house. But he has not a clue what it feels like to suffer the way I did. To lose the things most dear and precious to you. To be stripped of those you love and know you will have to face life, this semblance of a life, by yourself. But he has the upper hand now and I know it was him who told Mitch all those lies...well dreadful truths about me.

[Blanche suddenly springs from her bed and begins frantically pacing around the room, speaking out loud rather than thinking to herself. She is shaking uncontrollably while her words and thoughts are fast and somewhat slurred. She desperately rushes to the table to pour herself another shot in hopes of making it easier to think clearly while less painful to acknowledge the truth.]

I do not know what I will do when Stella and Stanley return from the hospital. I have lost everyone who has ever mattered to me and know if I reveal my true self and tell my past I know, I fear, that my dear Stella, oh my wonderful, beautiful, baby sister, will forever hate me. I know that she will listen to only the awful words coming from my mouth and entirely forget who it is that is telling her. She will send me back to that horrid life I tried to so desperately to get away from.
But if I do not tell my poor, dear Stella of the truth, that brute of a husband will. He will enjoy every second of ruining my life and finally getting rid of me, freeing himself of the nuisance and burden that I am to him. Deliberate cruelty is unforgivable, and the one thing of which I have never,ever been guilty of, but Stanley is and always will be guilty of this offense.
I can not possibly tell Stella, but if I do not, what will become of us, of me? I have to protect Stella from the truth. Truth only causes pain and I will not, can not cause any more pain to Stella, or myself. I do not anticipate a wonderful and carefree life, like I once thought I possessed, with a doting and loving husband to give me the things I have since longed to have again. I feel like the only way to achieve this rather impossible fantasy is to give up my old fashioned ways, and give myself to a man in order for him to love or even want me. If I do not forsake the things I believed, I will never be wanted, for I am no longer the striking, carefree, young woman I once was. But I am going to try, desperately and urgently, to find happiness again, even if I have to find it in this unsuitable and despicable place, I am going to find and it.
But if I tell Stella or Mitch of the things I have done, I would not possibly be able to bear the immense anguish that would come from telling the truth. I will protect them, most of all Stella, from the unspeakable and dreadful truth and hopefully, hopefully Stanley will will not be as barbaric and cruel as I know him to be.”

[Blanche throws herself into the bedroom chair with her green-and-white-diagonal striped cover and plush green pillows in a hunched position with her face deeply hidden in her shaking hands. The music continually repeats in her head and the sense of danger once thought gone, returns and Blanche once more breaks down in uncontrollable sobs knowing and trying to hide the truth as she buries her face further into her Red Satin robe.]



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