"Ellen Schoeters is a member of Actorama + where actors can upload a monologue or scene performance for peer review. What do you think of Ellen Schoeters's performance?"
(0 votes)
| Character | Don Diegue | |
|---|---|---|
| Gender | Male | |
| Age Range(s) | Senior (>50) | |
| Type of monologue / Character is | Angry, Depressed, Lamenting, Complaining, Frustrated | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Year | 1637 | |
| Period | 17th Century | |
| Genre | Romance, Drama, Comedy, War | |
| Description | Don Diegue despairs by himself because Don Gomes' insults | |
| Location | ACT I, Scene 5 | |
Summary
The Cid is set in medieval Spain and is about a love story between Don Rodrigue (El Cid), an heroic soldier and son of Don Diegue, and Chimene, daughter of Don Gomes. Their love is challenged by the fact that in the beginning of the play Don Rodrigue, to save his father's honor, is forced to kill Don Gomes in a duel. Throughout the play Chimene will seek revenge against El Cid for killing her father even if still in love with him. Eventually, when El Cid comes back to Spain victorious against the invading Moorish army, the king presses Chimere to forget the past and marry him.
Here we are in ACT I, Scene 5. In the previous scene, Don Diegue and Don Gomes had an argument because of the king's decision to hire Don Diegue as a tutor for his son. Don Gomes expected to be named for that position and after an argument slaps Don Diegue and steals his sword.
In this monologue Don Diegue despairs for the way Don Gomes humiliated him.
Here we are in ACT I, Scene 5. In the previous scene, Don Diegue and Don Gomes had an argument because of the king's decision to hire Don Diegue as a tutor for his son. Don Gomes expected to be named for that position and after an argument slaps Don Diegue and steals his sword.
In this monologue Don Diegue despairs for the way Don Gomes humiliated him.
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
|---|
| DON DIEGO: O rage! O despair! O inimical old age! Have I then lived so long only for this disgrace? And have I grown grey in warlike toils, only to see in one day so many of my laurels wither? Does my arm--which all Spain admires and looks up to--does my arm, which has so often saved this empire, and so often strengthened anew the throne of its king, now betray my cause, and do nothing for me? O cruel remembrance of my bygone glory! O work of a lifetime effaced in a day! New dignity fatal to my happiness! Lofty precipice from which mine honor falls! Must I see the count triumph over your splendour, and die without vengeance, or live in shame? Count, be now the instructor of my prince! This high rank becomes no man without honor, and thy jealous pride, by this foul insult, in spite of the choice of the king, has contrived to render me unworthy of it. And thou, glorious instrument of my exploits, but yet a useless ornament of an enfeebled body numbed by age, thou sword, hitherto to be feared, and which in this insult has served me for show, and not for defence, go, abandon henceforth the most dishonored of his race; pass, to avenge me, into better hands! |
