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Monologue

Gordon Monologue from The Death of Wallenstein

From The Death of Wallenstein by Friedrich Schiller

male · anguished · 1:35 min

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And yet remember I the good old proverb, "Let the night come before we praise the day." I would be slow from long-continued fortune To gather hope: for hope is the companion Given to the unfortunate by pitying heaven. Fear hovers round the head of prosperous men, For still unsteady are the scales of fate. WALLENSTEIN (smiling). I hear the very Gordon that of old Was wont to preach, now once more preaching; I know well, that all sublunary things Are still the vassals of vicissitude. The unpropitious gods demand their tribute. This long ago the ancient pagans knew And therefore of their own accord they offered To themselves injuries, so to atone The jealousy of their divinities And human sacrifices bled to Typhon. [After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner. I too have sacrificed to him--for me There fell the dearest friend, and through my fault He fell! No joy from favorable fortune Can overweigh the anguish of this stroke. The envy of my destiny is glutted: Life pays for life. On his pure head the lightning Was drawn off which would else have shattered me.

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