Michael has stayed up late drinking with his brothers and his
START: I’ll tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want to watch the door while a Catholic boy gets hammered. I don’t want to wear that boy’s cross round my neck, show it off to people like a prize.
END: I don’t want to get shot in the back of the head for something I probably never did, and spend ten years face-down in a bog in the middle of nowhere while my wife and child sit waiting, hoping, praying for me to come home. If that’s the road to justice you can f#&king bangle it.
For full extended monologue, please refer to the script edition cited here: Jez Butterworth, The Ferryman, NHB Modern Plays, 2017, pp. 115-6.
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