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 · 54 sec

Thou know'st her! And thou wert silent! (DON MANUEL: If I know thy mother, Horrors betide us both!) Oh, she is gracious As the sun's orient beam! Yes! I behold her; Fond memory wakes;--and from my bosom's depths Her godlike presence rises to my view! I see around her snowy neck descend The tresses of her raven hair, that shade The form of sculptured loveliness; I see The pale, high-thoughted brow; the darkening glance Of her large lustrous orbs; I hear the tones Of soul-fraught sweetness! (DON MANUEL: 'Tis herself!) This day, Perchance had give me to her arms, and knit Our souls in everlasting love;--such bliss I have renounced, yes! I have lost a mother For thee!

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