A monologue from the play by Susan Glaspell

NOTE: This play was published in 1920 by Small, Maynard & Company, Boston. It is now in the public domain and may be performed without royalties.

IAN: The clocks! Bring them! [Seizes a spade.] Bring every one! We will bury the clocks before the sun-dial -- an offering, a living sacrifice. I tell you this is great, Eloise. What is a clock? Something agreed upon and arbitrarily imposed upon us. Standard time. Not true time. Symbolizing the whole standardization of our lives. Clocks! Why, it is clockiness that makes America mechanical and mean! Clock-minded! A clock is a little machine that shuts us out from the wonder of time. [A large gesture with the shovel.] Who thinks of spinning worlds when looking at a clock? How dare clocks do this to us? But the sun-dial -- because there was creation, because there are worlds outside our world, because space is rhythm and time is flow that shadow falls precisely there and not elsewhere! Bring them, Eloise! I am digging the graves of clocks! That damned cuckoo! [Tosses clocks into the grave.] Into these graves go all that is clock-like in our own minds. All that a clock world has made of us lies buried here! Flaming worlds! A cuckoo! And now -- a little grave for little clocks. [Takes off his watch, puts it in the grave.] Your watch, Eloise. Free yourself. [Kindly.] You will grow, Eloise. You will go out to large things now that you have done with small ones. [Eloise reluctantly frees herself.] Now we are freed! Eloise, think what life is going to be! Done with approximations. Done with machine thinking. In a world content with false time, we are true.

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