From The Two Lovers of Heaven: Chrysanthus and Daria A Drama of Early Christian Rome by Pedro Calderón de la Barca

O stag that swiftly flying Before my feathered shafts the winds outvieing, Impelled by wings, not feet, If in this green retreat Here panting thou wouldst die, And stain with blood the fountain murmuring by, Await another wound, another friend, That so with quicker speed thy life may end; For to a wretch that stroke a friend must be That eases death and sooner sets life free. (She stumbles and falls near the mouth of a cave.) But, bless me, heaven! I feel My brain grow hot, my curdling blood congeal: A form of fire and snow I seem at once to turn: this sudden blow, This stumbling, how I know not, by this stone, This horrid mouth in which my grave is shown, This cave of many shapes, Through which the melancholy mountain gapes, This mountain's self, a vast Abysmal shadow cast Suddenly on my heart, as if 't were meant To be my rustic pyre, my strange new monument, All fill my heart with wonder and with fear, What buried mysteries are hidden here That terrify me so, And make me tremble 'neath impending woe. (A solemn strain of music is heard from within.) Nay more, illusion now doth bear to me The sweetest sounds of dulcet harmony, Music and voice combine:-- O solitude! what phantasms are thine! But let me listen to the voice that blent Sounds with the music of the instrument. Music from within the cave.

Daria Monologue from The Two Lovers of Heaven: Chrysanthus and Daria A Drama of Early Christian Rome

Rehearse Daria's monologue