Thekla Monologue from The Death of Wallenstein

From The Death of Wallenstein by Friedrich Schiller

female · anguished · 1:01 min

To a deep quiet, such as he has found, It draws me on, I know not what to name it, Resistless does it draw me to his grave. There will my heart be eased, my tears will flow. Oh hasten, make no further questioning! There is no rest for me till I have left These walls--they fall in on me--a dim power Drives me from hence--oh mercy! What a feeling! What pale and hollow forms are those! They fill, They crowd the place! I have no longer room here! Mercy! Still more! More still! The hideous swarm, They press on me; they chase me from these walls-- Those hollow, bodiless forms of living men!

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