Philip Monologue from The Purgatory of St. Patrick

From The Purgatory of St. Patrick by Pedro Calderón de la Barca

male · anguished · 54 sec

Give me, good Leogaire, your arms. (LEOGAIRE: Honour in them you bestow. Is it possible, once more That alive I see thee?) Here, Trophy of a fate severe, The sea flung me on this shore, Where, their willing aid secured, I have lived these peasants' guest, Till I could repair with rest All the sufferings I endured. And, besides, I thought with dread On the angry disposition Of the king: for his ambition When has it or bowed the head, Or with patience heard related The sad tragedies of fate? Hopeless and disconsolate In this solitude I've waited, Till some happy chance might rise When no longer I should grieve, And the king would give me leave To appear before his eyes.

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