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  1. Home
  2. Monologue for Men
  3. Dramatic Monologue for Men
  4. Manfred
  • A Monologue from the play "Manfred" by Lord Byron
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CharacterManfred????
GenderMale
Age Range(s)Young Adult (20-35), Adult (36-50)
Type of monologue / Character isAngry, Scolding, Flips out, Dying, Lamenting
TypeDramatic
Year1817
Period19th Century
GenreDrama
DescriptionManfred defies the spirit
DetailsACT 3 Scene 4

Summary

Manfred is a nobleman who lives in the Bernese Alps. He is a loner who has dedicated his life in the pursuit of science but has now given up on it. He is also tortured because he considers himself responsible for the death of Astarte, the only girl he ever loved. Manfred wants to forget his past and his pain so conjures seven spirits to help him. He is unable to kill himself to get over his sense of guilt and he constantly defies any religious offers to redeem himself. At the end, he chooses to die instead of give up his principles. In this monologue Manfred is about to die and is in the precense of the Abbot and a spirit who urge him to redeem himself from sin. Manfred resists and defies them, telling them he is not afraid to die...

Written by Administrator

Excerpt
MANFRED: "Thou false fiend, thou liest!
My life is in its last hour—that I know,
Nor would redeem a moment of that hour;
I do not combat against Death, but thee
And thy surrounding angels; my past power
Was purchased by no compact with thy crew,
But by superior science—penance, daring,
And length of watching, strength of mind, and skill
In knowledge of our Fathers—when the earth
Saw men and spirits walking side by side,
And gave ye no supremacy: I stand
Upon my strength—I do defy—deny—
Spurn back, and scorn ye!—

[SPIRIT: "But they many crimes
Have made thee--]

What are my crimes to such as thee?
Must crimes be punished but by other crimes,
And greater criminals?—Back to thy hell!
Thou hast no power upon me, that I feel;
Thou never shalt possess me, that I know:
What I have done is done; I bear within
A torture which could nothing gain from thine:
The Mind which is immortal makes itself
Requital for its good or evil thoughts—
Is its own origin of ill and end—
And its own place and time: its innate sense,
When stripped of this mortality, derives
No colour from the fleeting things without,
But is absorbed in sufferance or in joy,
Born from the knowledge of its own desert.
Thou didst not tempt me, and thou couldst not tempt me;
I have not been thy dupe, nor am thy prey—
But was my own destroyer, and will be
My own hereafter.—Back, ye baffled fiends!
The hand of Death is on me—but not yours!"

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