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| Character | Segismundo | |
|---|---|---|
| Gender | Male | |
| Age Range(s) | Teenager (13-19), Young Adult (20-35) | |
| Type of monologue / Character is | Depressed, Lamenting, Frustrated, Talking to the audience | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Year | 1635 | |
| Period | Any | |
| Genre | Family, Drama | |
| Description | Segismundo laments about his miserable life as a recluse | |
| Details | ACT 1 Scene 1 | |
Summary
The central character of this play is Segismundo, the prince of Poland, son of King Basilio, who has been imprisoned all his life in a secluded tower as at the time of his birth it had been prophesised that he would have grown to become a tyrant and a violent ruler. Nobody actually knows that Segismundo is still alive as the king had told everybody that he had died in childbirth.
This monologue comes in the first scene of the first act. He laments about his life and wonders why he has been deprived of his freedom..
This monologue comes in the first scene of the first act. He laments about his life and wonders why he has been deprived of his freedom..
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
|---|
| SEGISMUND: "Once more the storm has roar'd itself away, Splitting the crags of God as it retires; But sparing still what it should only blast, This guilty piece of human handiwork, And all that are within it. Oh, how oft, How oft, within or here abroad, have I Waited, and in the whisper of my heart Pray'd for the slanting hand of heaven to strike The blow myself I dared not, out of fear Of that Hereafter, worse, they say, than here, Plunged headlong in, but, till dismissal waited, To wipe at last all sorrow from men's eyes, And make this heavy dispensation clear. Thus have I borne till now, and still endure, Crouching in sullen impotence day by day, Till some such out-burst of the elements Like this rouses the sleeping fire within; And standing thus upon the threshold of Another night about to close the door Upon one wretched day to open it On one yet wretcheder because one more;— Once more, you savage heavens, I ask of you— I, looking up to those relentless eyes That, now the greater lamp is gone below, Begin to muster in the listening skies; In all the shining circuits you have gone About this theatre of human woe, What greater sorrow have you gazed upon Than down this narrow chink you witness still; And which, did you yourselves not fore-devise, You registered for others to fulfil!" |
