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. (CREON: Say, how didst thou arrest the maid, and where?) Burying the man. There’s nothing more to tell. (CREON: Hast thou thy wits? Or know’st thou what thou say’st?) I saw this woman burying the corpse Against thy orders. Is that clear and plain?

Guard Monologue from Oedipus at Colonus

Rehearse Guard's monologue