Oh, let the emperor make peace, my father! Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel For the first violet (5) of the leafless spring, Plucked in those quiet fields where I have journeyed. (OCTAVIO: What ails thee? What so moves thee all at once?) Peace have I ne'er beheld? I have beheld it. From thence am I come hither: oh, that sight, It glimmers still before me, like some landscape Left in the distance,--some delicious landscape! My road conducted me through countries where The war has not yet reached. Life, life, my father-- My venerable father, life has charms Which we have never experienced. We have been But voyaging along its barren coasts, Like some poor ever-roaming horde of pirates, That, crowded in the rank and narrow ship, House on the wild sea with wild usages, Nor know aught of the mainland, but the bays Where safeliest they may venture a thieves' landing. Whate'er in the inland dales the land conceals Of fair and exquisite, oh, nothing, nothing, Do we behold of that in our rude voyage. OCTAVIO (attentive, with an appearance of uneasiness). And so your journey has revealed this to you?

Max Piccolomini Monologue from The Piccolomini: A Play

Rehearse Max Piccolomini's monologue