Loke Monologue from The Death of Balder

From The Death of Balder by Johannes Ewald

male · anguished · 1:13 min

Forgive me, sir; forsooth, I was confounded! Thou see'st in me a poor and ancient Finman. Far, far away from these terrific mountains, This year I built of flags and stones my hovel; I sought for reindeer--all my wealth; they doubtless Were captured by the bear! I, wretched being! My sight is feeble, and the night surprised me; The wind, as I observe too late, has shifted, And not a star is gleaming in the heavens: Ah! far must be the way unto my hovel! My feet are wearied out, for I have wandered The long and chilly night among the mountains. (BALDER: What wishest thou?) I die of frost and hunger. Whoe'er thou art, and if thou feelest pity-- Excuse my doubt--yet wouldst thou save the remnant Of life which trembles on my lips, conduct me Straight to the cheering hearth where bask thy servants.

Rehearse Loke's monologue

Run it out loud with a spotlight that follows your voice, line by line, until it's off the page. Free to start, no credit card.

Rehearse free Get started free