From The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy by Friedrich Schiller

My tongue shall speak as prompts my swelling heart; My griefs shall cry to heaven. Why do we lift Our suppliant hands, and at the sacred shrines Kneel to adore? Good, easy dupes! What win we From faith and pious awe? to touch with prayers The tenants of yon azure realms on high, Were hard as with an arrow's point to pierce The silvery moon. Hid is the womb of time, Impregnable to mortal glance, and deaf The adamantine walls of heaven rebound The voice of anguish:--Oh, 'tis one, whate'er The flight of birds--the aspect of the stars! The book of nature is a maze--a dream The sage's art--and every sign a falsehood! Second Chorus (BOHEMUND). Woe! Woe! Ill-fated woman, stay Thy maddening blasphemies; Thou but disown'st, with purblind eyes, The flaming orb of day! Confess the gods,--they dwell on high-- They circle thee with awful majesty! All the Knights. Confess the gods--they dwell on high-- They circle thee with awful majesty!

Isabella Monologue from The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy

Rehearse Isabella's monologue