Monologue

Guard Monologue from Antigone

From Antigone by Sophocles

male · anguished · 56 sec

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No man, my lord, should make a vow, for if He ever swears he will not do a thing, His afterthoughts belie his first resolve. When from the hail-storm of thy threats I fled I sware thou wouldst not see me here again; But the wild rapture of a glad surprise Intoxicates, and so I’m here forsworn. And here’s my prisoner, caught in the very act, Decking the grave. No lottery this time; This prize is mine by right of treasure-trove. So take her, judge her, rack her, if thou wilt. She’s thine, my liege; but I may rightly claim Hence to depart well quit of all these ills.

About this piece

The Guard confronts his lord about the consequences of his actions and the burden of his duty, revealing his internal conflict and fear of repercussions.

30s · fear · power · fate · betrayal · freedom

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