SHOULD A WOMAN TELL
(Musical Monologue)
 
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I want you to picture a drawing-room scene
In a snug little house in Mayfair
Where the shaded light fell on the face of a man
Who was sitting asleep in his chair
He was careworn and tired, with the strain of a life
In which others were setting the pace
But the troubles and worries had gone for the day
And a smile hovered over his face
The clock in the hall chimed a quarter to twelve
When he suddenly woke with a start
To find at his feet shrinking back from his gaze
His idol, the wife of his heart
He pushed back the curls from her brow
'My darling, why shrink from me so?'
'Oh George, I've got something to tell you
Something I think you should know
I've waited so long for this moment
I've wanted to hear what you'd say
But somehow... It's dreadfully hard Dear
When one's said one would love and obey.'
He rose from his chair like a man in a dream
His handsome face clouded with wrath
And casting her from him like poison
In scathing indictment burst forth.
'So this is the end of my beautiful dream
So this is your secret alas
To think that the very foundations of love
Should fall in this shattering mass
My future, my hopes and ambitions
Lie in ruins... this bolt from the blue
Has shaken my faith in the stoutest of friends
And all through the frailty of you.'
His twitching hands clutched at her lily white throat
The veins on his forehead nigh burst
'False woman' he cried, 'Speak your secret
And tell me, yes, tell me the worst.'
She rose from the floor and upon both her cheeks
Two patches of colour flamed red
She looked at her judge with the utmost contempt
And these are the words that she said
'Oh George, I've got something to tell you
It is you who should be 'on the mat'
A lady called round here this morning
You had left your cigars at her flat.'
 
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Written by William Wallace 1921
 
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