Don Carlos Monologue from Don Carlos: A Play

From Don Carlos: A Play by Friedrich Schiller

male · anguished · 1:09 min

Unhappy me! Remind me not of him. Tell me of all the torturing pangs of conscience, But speak not, I implore you, of my father! (MARQUIS: Then do you hate your father?) No, oh, no! I do not hate my father; but the fear That guilty creatures feel,--a shuddering dread,-- Comes o'er me ever at that terrible name. Am I to blame, if slavish nurture crushed Love's tender germ within my youthful heart? Six years I'd numbered, ere the fearful man, They told me was my father, met mine eyes. One morning 'twas, when with a stroke I saw him Sign four death-warrants. After that I ne'er Beheld him, save when, for some childish fault, I was brought out for chastisement. O God! I feel my heart grow bitter at the thought. Let us away! away!

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