Attend all ye who dwell beside the halls Of Cadmus and Amphion. No man’s life As of one tenor would I praise or blame, For Fortune with a constant ebb and rise Casts down and raises high and low alike, And none can read a mortal’s horoscope. Take Creon; he, methought, if any man, Was enviable. He had saved this land Of Cadmus from our enemies and attained A monarch’s powers and ruled the state supreme, While a right noble issue crowned his bliss. Now all is gone and wasted, for a life Without life’s joys I count a living death. You’ll tell me he has ample store of wealth, The pomp and circumstance of kings; but if These give no pleasure, all the rest I count The shadow of a shade, nor would I weigh His wealth and power ’gainst a dram of joy.

Messenger Monologue from Antigone

Rehearse Messenger's monologue