Octavio Piccolomini Monologue from The Piccolomini: A Play

From The Piccolomini: A Play by Friedrich Schiller

male · anguished · 1:00 min

Quickness of temper--irritated pride; 'Twas nothing more. I cannot give up Butler. I know a spell that will soon dispossess The evil spirit in him. QUESTENBERG (walking up and down in evident disquiet). Friend, friend! O! this is worse, far worse, than we had suffered Ourselves to dream of at Vienna. There We saw it only with a courtier's eyes, Eyes dazzled by the splendor of the throne. We had not seen the war-chief, the commander, The man all-powerful in his camp. Here, here, 'Tis quite another thing. Here is no emperor more--the duke is emperor. Alas, my friend! alas, my noble friend! This walk which you have ta'en me through the camp Strikes my hopes prostrate.

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