Lyc Monologue from Psyche

From Psyche by Molière

male · anguished · 1:07 min

Alas! hear for yourselves, princesses, the great misfortune which is known to the whole court. These are the very words which, through the oracle, destiny has spoken to the king, and which grief, Madam, has engraven on my heart:-- "No one must think to lead Psyche to Hymen's shrine; But all with earnest speed, In pompous mournful line, High to the mountain crest Must take her; there to await, Forlorn, in deep unrest, A monster who envenoms all, Decreed by fate her husband; A serpent whose dark poisonous breath And rage e'er hold the world in thrall, Shaking the heavens high and realms of death." After so severe a decree, I leave you to judge for yourselves if the gods could have manifested their wrath in a more cruel and fearful manner.

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