It will follow me to the grave and becom
See more monologues from Tom Stoppard
Moon, an English theatre critic, is frustrated and infuriated that no one takes him
It will follow me to the grave and become my epitaph--Here lies Moon, the second string: Where's Higgs? ... Sometimes I dream of revolution, a bloody coup d'etat by the second rank--troupes of actors slaughtered by their understudies, magicians sawn in half by indefatigably smiling glamour girls, cricket teams wiped out by marauding bands of twelfth men--I dream of champions chopped down by rabbit-punching sparring partners while eternal bridesmaids turn and rape the bridegrooms over the sausage rolls and parliamentary private secretaries plant bombs in the Minister's Humber--comedians die on provincial stages, robbed of their feeds by mutely triumphant stooges--and--march--an army of assistants and deputies, the seconds-in-command, the runners-up, the right-hand men--storming the palace gates wherein the second son has already mounted the throne having committed regicide with a croquet-mallet--stand-ins up the world stand up! (Beat) Sometimes I dream of Higgs.
Stoppard, Tom. The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays. Grove Press, New York, NY. 1998. p. 7.