THE MANDRAKE

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
  • CALLIMACO: I told you. The sex was great. From the beginning. I mean, she was very ... athletic. Very vocal. She couldn't get enough. And, of course, I was in heaven. But I wasn't enjoying it like I should because ... well, I felt like there was this wall between us. This barrier. Keeping us apart. So I told her. Everything. The whole plan. Who I was. How I'd followed her from Paris. I was afraid she'd think I was some kind of stalker, but she just kept kissing me and telling me how happy she was that I wasn't going to die. Pretty soon, we were at it again. And that time ... wow. I mean. Wow. We really connected. It was like a religious experience. She was almost singing. An aria. Her voice. Like music. That's when I asked her to marry me. I know! I know! She's already married! But Calfucci's getting old. He can't live much longer. Right? So I asked her to marry me the second he kicks it. In the meantime, I explained how we could very easily continue our affair right under his nose. I laid it out. You know. Pretty plainly. She stared at me for a long time. I knew the whole thing was on the line. This was it. Whatever she said. She sighed. She didn't speak for a long time. Finally, she said, "Since my husband's stupidity, my mother's selfishness, and my confessor's greed have conspired to force me into something I never would have done under normal circumstances ... I have no choice but to accept it as the will of God." Then she swore her undying love and sealed it with a ... well ... something special. As they were pulling us apart, she slipped me a key. I'll get cozy with Calfucci. Come and go as I please. It's perfect. Perfect. I couldn't be happier.

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