Instant Monologues
Burnett Little Princess Instant Monologue

by Frances Hodgson Burnett


Sara is alone in her room with her doll, Emily.


There isn't any party left, Emily-there isn't any princess-there's nothing left but the prisoner in the Bastille.

(Head down and cries softly)

I won't cry.

(To table with Emily)

I'll go to bed and sleep. I can't pretend any more to-night.

(Blows out candle)

I wish I could.

(Going to bed)

I'll go to sleep and perhaps a dream will come to pretend for me-

(Takes off shoes-in bed)

I'll suppose a little to make it easier. Suppose there was a bright fire in that grate-with lots of little dancing flames-suppose there was a soft rug on the floor and that was a comfortable chair-and suppose the attic was furnished in lovely colors-

(Voice becomes dreamy)

And suppose there was a little table by the fire with a little hot supper on it-and suppose this was a beautiful soft bed with white sheets and fleecy blankets and large downy pillows-suppose-sup-p-ose-sup-o-se-

(Falls asleep. Sara wakes slowly, sees the
wonderful change and is bewildered)

What a nice dream. I feel quite warm.

(Stretches out arms, feels blanket dreamily)

I don't want to wake up-

(Trying to sleep)

Oh, I am awakening.

(Opens eyes, sees everything-thinks she is dreaming)

I have not wakened. I'm dreaming yet.

(Looks around smiling, bewildered but waking)

It does not melt away-it stays. I never had such a dream before.

(Pushes bedclothes aside, puts feet on floor, smiling)

I am dreaming, it stays real-I'm dreaming, it feels real.

(Moves forward, staring about her)

It's bewitched, or I'm bewitched.

(Words hurrying themselves)

I only think I see it all. But if I can only keep on thinking it, I don't care, I don't care.

(Sudden outburst of emotion. Sees fire and runs to it)

A fire, a little supper.

(Kneels at fire-hands before it)

A fire I only dreamed wouldn't be hot.

(Jumping up, sees dressing-gown and slippers)

A dressing gown!

(Holding it to face then putting it on)

It is real-it is, it must be. It's warm, it's soft.

(Puts feet in slippers, cries out)

Slippers-they are real too. They are real, it's all real. I am not-I am not dreaming.

(Sees books on cushions. Runs to them.)

Books, books-

(Opens one, turns over leaves rapidly)

Some one has written something. Oh, what is it?

(Runs to lamp. Reads aloud)

"To the little girl in the garret, from a friend."

(Clasping book to her breast, grabs up Emily and hugs her)

Oh Emily, oh papa-


Papa, I have a friend, I have a friend!

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