Beatrice Monologue from The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy

From The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy by Friedrich Schiller

female · anguished · 58 sec

'Tis thou! Ah! cruel one, Again I see thee--clasp thee--long appalled, To thousand ills a prey, trembling I languish For thy return: no more--in thy loved arms I am at peace, nor think of dangers past, Thy breast my shield from every threatening harm. Quick! Let us fly! they see us not!--away! Nor lose the moment. Ha! Thy looks affright me! Thy sullen, cold reserve! Thou tear'st thyself Impatient from my circling arms, I know thee No more! Is this Don Manuel? My beloved? My husband? (DON MANUEL: Beatrice!) No words! The moment Is precious! Haste. (DON MANUEL: Yet tell me----) Quick! Away! Ere those fierce men return.

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