From A Play in VerseBy Hugo Von HofmannsthalTranslated from the German by Harriet Betty Boas.

I have no children. My mother I saw once— I saw her once, just before she died. My father led me and my sister to A vaulted, high, severe and gloomy room. The suff'rer I saw not; her hand alone Hung like a greeting to me—that I kissed. About my father I remember this. He wore an armor of green burnished gold With darker clasps—two always helped him mount Upon his horse, for he was very old— I hardly knew Medea. Not much joy, Had she, my sister. Thin of hair, Her forehead and her temples older seemed, Much older, than her mouth and her hands to me— She always held a flower in her hand.— O Lord, have mercy unto these sweet souls As unto mine, and bid them welcome me, Greeting me kindly when I come to Thee. I cannot kneel—there is no space to kneel.

Dianora Monologue from A Play in VerseBy Hugo Von HofmannsthalTranslated from the German

Rehearse Dianora's monologue