Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow! It speaks no longer in my heart. We all But utter what our passionate wishes dictate: Oh that an angel would descend from heaven, And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted, With a pure hand from the pure Fount of light. [His eyes glance on THEKLA. What other angel seek I? To this heart, To this unerring heart, will I submit it; Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless The happy man alone, averted ever From the disquieted and guilty--canst thou Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst, And I am the duke's---- (COUNTESS: Think, niece----) Think nothing, Thekla! Speak what thou feelest. (COUNTESS: Think upon your father.) I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. Thee, the beloved and the unerring God Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake? Not whether diadem of royalty Be to be won or not--that mightest thou think on. Thy friend, and his soul's quiet are at stake: The fortune of a thousand gallant men, Who will all follow me; shall I forswear My oath and duty to the emperor? Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp The parricidal ball? For when the ball Has left its cannon, and is on its flight, It is no longer a dead instrument! It lives, a spirit passes into it; The avenging furies seize possession of it, And with sure malice, guide it the worst way.

Max Piccolomini Monologue from The Death of Wallenstein

Rehearse Max Piccolomini's monologue