Monologue

Signe Monologue from The feast at Solhoug

From The feast at Solhoug by Henrik Ibsen

female · romantic · 1:52 min

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(Who has only half listened to his words.) I mind me, we sat in the hearth's red glow, One winter evening--'tis long ago-- And you sang to me of the maiden fair Whom the neckan had lured to his watery lair. There she forgot both father and mother, There she forgot both sister and brother; Heaven and earth and her Christian speech, And her God, she forgot them all and each. But close by the strand a stripling stood And he was heartsore and heavy of mood. He struck from his harpstrings notes of woe, That wide o'er the waters rang loud, rang low. The spell-bound maid in the tarn so deep, His strains awoke from her heavy sleep, The neckan must grant her release from his rule, She rose through the lilies afloat on the pool-- Then looked she to heaven while on green earth she trod, And wakened once more to her faith and her God. (GUDMUND: Signe, my fairest of flowers!) It seems That I, too, have lived in a world of dreams. But the strange deep words you to-night have spoken, Of the power of love, have my slumber broken. The heavens seemed never so blue to me, Never the world so fair; I can understand, as I roam with thee, The song of the birds in air.

About this piece

20s · hope · love · redemption · identity · faith

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