The Maid of Orleans E-Book

Friedrich Schiller

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 136

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Ay, my good neighbors! we at least today Are Frenchmen still, free citizens and lords Of the old soil which our forefathers tilled. Who knows whom we tomorrow must obey? For England her triumphal banner waves From every wall: the blooming fields of France Are trampled down beneath her chargers' hoofs; Paris hath yielded to her conquering arms, And with the ancient crown of Dagobert Adorns the scion of a foreign race. Our king's descendant, disinherited, Must steal in secret through his own domain; While his first peer and nearest relative Contends against him in the hostile ranks; Ay, his unnatural mother leads them on. Around us towns and peaceful hamlets burn. Near and more near the devastating fire Rolls toward these vales, which yet repose in peace. Therefore, good neighbors, I have now resolved, While God still grants us safety, to provide For my three daughters; for 'midst war's alarms Women require protection, and true love Hath power to render lighter every load. [To the first Shepherd. Come, Etienne! You seek my Margot's hand. Fields lying side by side and loving hearts Promise a happy union! [To the second. Claude! You're silent, And my Louison looks upon the ground? How, shall I separate two loving hearts Because you have no wealth to offer me? Who now has wealth? Our barns and homes afford Spoil to the foe, and fuel to the fires. In times like these a husband's faithful breast Affords the only shelter from the storm.

Leseprobe

The Maid of Orleans

The Maid of OrleansDRAMATIS PERSONAE.PROLOGUE.ACT I.ACT II.ACT III.ACT IV.ACT V.Copyright

The Maid of Orleans

Friedrich Schiller

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

   CHARLES THE SEVENTH, King of France.   QUEEN ISABEL, his Mother.   AGNES SOREL.   PHILIP THE GOOD, Duke of Burgundy.   EARL DUNOIS, Bastard of Orleans.   LA HIRE, DUCRATEL, French Offers.   ARCHBISHOP OF RHEIMS.   CRATILLON, A Burgundian Knight.   RAOUL, a Lotharingian Knight.   TALBOT, the English General,   LIONEL, FASTOLFE, English Officers.   MONTGOMERY, a Welshman.   COUNCILLORS OF ORLEANS.   AN ENGLISH HERALD.   THIBAUT D'ARC, a wealthy Countryman.   MARGOT, LOUISON, JOHANNA, his Daughters.   ETIENNE, CLAUDE MARIE, RAIMOND, their Suitors.   BERTRAND, another Countryman.   APPARITION OF A BLACK KNIGHT.   CHARCOAL-BURNER AND HIS WIFE.

PROLOGUE.

A rural District. To the right, a Chapel with an Image of the Virgin; to   the left, an ancient Oak.SCENE I.THIBAUT D'ARC. His Three Daughters. Three young Shepherds,      their Suitors.   THIBAUT.   Ay, my good neighbors! we at least today   Are Frenchmen still, free citizens and lords   Of the old soil which our forefathers tilled.   Who knows whom we tomorrow must obey?   For England her triumphal banner waves   From every wall: the blooming fields of France   Are trampled down beneath her chargers' hoofs;   Paris hath yielded to her conquering arms,   And with the ancient crown of Dagobert   Adorns the scion of a foreign race.   Our king's descendant, disinherited,   Must steal in secret through his own domain;   While his first peer and nearest relative   Contends against him in the hostile ranks;   Ay, his unnatural mother leads them on.   Around us towns and peaceful hamlets burn.   Near and more near the devastating fire   Rolls toward these vales, which yet repose in peace.   Therefore, good neighbors, I have now resolved,   While God still grants us safety, to provide   For my three daughters; for 'midst war's alarms   Women require protection, and true love   Hath power to render lighter every load.      [To the first Shepherd.   Come, Etienne! You seek my Margot's hand.   Fields lying side by side and loving hearts   Promise a happy union!      [To the second.               Claude! You're silent,   And my Louison looks upon the ground?   How, shall I separate two loving hearts   Because you have no wealth to offer me?   Who now has wealth? Our barns and homes afford   Spoil to the foe, and fuel to the fires.   In times like these a husband's faithful breast   Affords the only shelter from the storm.   LOUISON.   My father!   CLAUDE MARIE.         My Louison!   LOUISON (embracing JOHANNA).                My dear sister!   THIBAUT.   I give to each a yard, a stall and herd,   And also thirty acres; and as God   Gave me his blessing, so I give you mine!   MARGOT (embracing JOHANNA).   Gladden our father—follow our example!   Let this day see three unions ratified!   THIBAUT.   Now go; make all things ready; for the morn   Shall see the wedding. Let our village friends   Be all assembled for the festival.      [The two couples retire arm in arm.SCENE II.THIBAUT, RAIMOND, JOHANNA.   THIBAUT.   Thy sisters, Joan, will soon be happy brides;   I see them gladly; they rejoice my age;   But thou, my youngest, giv'st me grief and pain.   RAIMOND.   What is the matter? Why upbraid thy child?   THIBAUT.   Here is this noble youth, the flower and pride   Of all our village; he hath fixed on thee   His fond affections, and for three long years   Has wooed thee with respectful tenderness;   But thou dost thrust him back with cold reserve.   Nor is there one 'mong all our shepherd youths   Who e'er can win a gracious smile from thee.   I see thee blooming in thy youthful prime;   Thy spring it is, the joyous time of hope;   Thy person, like a tender flower, hath now   Disclosed its beauty, but I vainly wait   For love's sweet blossom genially to blow,   And ripen joyously to golden fruit!   Oh, that must ever grieve me, and betrays   Some sad deficiency in nature's work!   The heart I like not which, severe and cold,   Expands not in the genial years of youth.   RAIMOND.   Forbear, good father! Cease to urge her thus!   A noble, tender fruit of heavenly growth   Is my Johanna's love, and time alone   Bringeth the costly to maturity!   Still she delights to range among the hills,   And fears descending from the wild, free heath,   To tarry 'neath the lowly roofs of men,   Where dwell the narrow cares of humble life.   From the deep vale, with silent wonder, oft   I mark her, when, upon a lofty hill   Surrounded by her flock, erect she stands,   With noble port, and bends her earnest gaze   Down on the small domains of earth. To me   She looketh then, as if from other times   She came, foreboding things of import high.   THIBAUT.   'Tis that precisely which displeases me!   She shuns her sisters' gay companionship;   Seeks out the desert mountains, leaves her couch   Before the crowing of the morning cock,   And in the dreadful hour, when men are wont   Confidingly to seek their fellow-men,   She, like the solitary bird, creeps forth,   And in the fearful spirit-realm of night,   To yon crossway repairs, and there alone   Holds secret commune with the mountain wind.   Wherefore this place precisely doth she choose?   Why hither always doth she drive her flock?   For hours together I have seen her sit   In dreamy musing 'neath the Druid tree,   Which every happy creature shuns with awe.   For 'tis not holy there; an evil spirit   Hath since the fearful pagan days of old   Beneath its branches fixed his dread abode.   The oldest of our villagers relate   Strange tales of horror of the Druid tree;   Mysterious voices of unearthly sound   From its unhallowed shade oft meet the ear.   Myself, when in the gloomy twilight hour   My path once chanced to lead me near this tree,   Beheld a spectral figure sitting there,   Which slowly from its long and ample robe   Stretched forth its withered hand, and beckoned me.   But on I went with speed, nor looked behind,   And to the care of God consigned my soul.   RAIMOND (pointing to the image of the Virgin).   Yon holy image of the Virgin blest,   Whose presence heavenly peace diffuseth round,   Not Satan's work, leadeth thy daughter here.   THIBAUT.   No! not in vain hath it in fearful dreams   And apparitions strange revealed itself.   For three successive nights I have beheld   Johanna sitting on the throne at Rheims,   A sparkling diadem of seven stars   Upon her brow, the sceptre in her hand,   From which three lilies sprung, and I, her sire,   With her two sisters, and the noble peers,   The earls, archbishops, and the king himself,   Bowed down before her. In my humble home   How could this splendor enter my poor brain?   Oh, 'tis the prelude to some fearful fall!   This warning dream, in pictured show, reveals   The vain and sinful longing of her heart.   She looks with shame upon her lowly birth.   Because with richer beauty God hath graced   Her form, and dowered her with wondrous gifts   Above the other maidens of this vale,   She in her heart indulges sinful pride,   And pride it is through which the angels fell,   By which the fiend of hell seduces man.   RAIMOND.   Who cherishes a purer, humbler mind   Than doth thy pious daughter? Does she not   With cheerful spirit work her sisters' will?   She is more highly gifted far than they,   Yet, like a servant maiden, it is she   Who silently performs the humblest tasks.   Beneath her guiding hands prosperity   Attendeth still thy harvest and thy flocks;   And around all she does there ceaseless flows   A blessing, rare and unaccountable.   THIBAUT.   Ah truly! Unaccountable indeed!   Sad horror at this blessing seizes me!   But now no more; henceforth I will be silent.   Shall I accuse my own beloved child?   I can do naught but warn and pray for her.   Yet warn I must. Oh, shun the Druid tree!   Stay not alone, and in the midnight hour   Break not the ground for roots, no drinks prepare,   No characters inscribe upon the sand!   'Tis easy to unlock the realm of spirits;   Listening each sound, beneath a film of earth   They lay in wait, ready to rush aloft.   Stay not alone, for in the wilderness   The prince of darkness tempted e'en the Lord.SCENE III.THIBAUT, RAIMOND, JOHANNA.      BERTRAND enters, a helmet in his hand.   RAIMOND.   Hush! here is Bertrand coming back from town;   What bears he in his hand?   BERTRAND.                 You look at me   With wondering gaze; no doubt you are surprised   To see this martial helm!   THIBAUT.                 We are indeed!   Come, tell us how you come by it? Why bring   This fearful omen to our peaceful vale?      [JOHANNA, who has remained indifferent during the two      previous scenes, becomes attentive, and steps nearer.   BERTRAND.   I scarce can tell you how I came by it.   I had procured some tools at Vaucouleurs;   A crowd was gathered in the market-place,   For fugitives were just arrived in haste   From Orleans, bringing most disastrous news.   In tumult all the town together flocked,   And as I forced a passage through the crowds,   A brown Bohemian woman, with this helm,   Approached me, eyed me narrowly, and said:   "Fellow, you seek a helm; I know it well.   Take this one! For a trifle it is yours."   "Go with it to the soldiers," I replied,   "I am a husbandman, and want no helm."   She would not cease, however, and went on:   "None knoweth if he may not want a helm.   A roof of metal for the Head just now   Is of more value than a house of stone."   Thus she pursued me closely through the streets,   Still offering the helm, which I refused.   I marked it well, and saw that it was bright,   And fair and worthy of a knightly head;   And when in doubt I weighed it in my hand,   The strangeness of the incident revolving,   The woman disappeared, for suddenly   The rushing crowd had carried her away.   And I was left the helmet in my hand.   JOHANNA (attempting eagerly to seize it).   Give me the helmet!   BERTRAND.              Why, what boots it you?   It is not suited to a maiden's head.   JOHANNA (seizing it from him).   Mine is the helmet—it belongs to me!   THIBAUT.   What whim is this?   RAIMOND.             Nay, let her have her way!   This warlike ornament becomes her well,   For in her bosom beats a manly heart.   Remember how she once subdued the wolf,   The savage monster which destroyed our herds,   And filled the neighb'ring shepherds with dismay.   She all alone—the lion-hearted maid   Fought with the wolf, and from him snatched the lamb   Which he was bearing in his bloody jaws.   How brave soe'er the head this helm adorned,   It cannot grace a worthier one than hers!   THIBAUT (to BERTRAND).   Relate what new disasters have occurred.   What tidings brought the fugitives?   BERTRAND.                      May God   Have pity on our land, and save the king!   In two great battles we have lost the day;   Our foes are stationed in the heart of France,   Far as the river Loire our lands are theirs—   Now their whole force they have combined, and lay   Close siege to Orleans.   THIBAUT.                God protect the king!   BERTRAND.   Artillery is brought from every side,   And as the dusky squadrons of the bees   Swarm round the hive upon a summer day,   As clouds of locusts from the sultry air   Descend and shroud the country round for miles,   So doth the cloud of war, o'er Orleans' fields,   Pour forth its many-nationed multitudes,   Whose varied speech, in wild confusion blent,   With strange and hollow murmurs fill the air.   For Burgundy, the mighty potentate,   Conducts his motley host; the Hennegarians,   The men of Liege and of Luxemburg,   The people of Namur, and those who dwell   In fair Brabant; the wealthy men of Ghent,   Who boast their velvets, and their costly silks;   The Zealanders, whose cleanly towns appear   Emerging from the ocean; Hollanders   Who milk the lowing herds; men from Utrecht,   And even from West Friesland's distant realm,   Who look towards the ice-pole—all combine,   Beneath the banner of the powerful duke,   Together to accomplish Orleans' fall.   THIBAUT.   Oh, the unblest, the lamentable strife,   Which turns the arms of France against itself!   BERTRAND.   E'en she, the mother-queen, proud Isabel   Bavaria's haughty princess—may be seen,   Arrayed in armor, riding through the camp;   With poisonous words of irony she fires   The hostile troops to fury 'gainst her son,   Whom she hath clasped to her maternal breast.   THIBAUT.   A curse upon her, and may God prepare   For her a death like haughty Jezebel's!   BERTRAND.   The fearful Salisbury conducts the siege,   The town-destroyer; with him Lionel,   The brother of the lion; Talbot, too,   Who, with his murd'rous weapon, moweth down   The people in the battle: they have sworn,   With ruthless insolence to doom to shame   The hapless maidens, and to sacrifice   All who the sword have wielded, with the sword.   Four lofty watch-towers, to o'ertop the town,   They have upreared; Earl Salisbury from on high   Casteth abroad his cruel, murd'rous glance,   And marks the rapid wanderers in the streets.   Thousands of cannon-balls, of pond'rous weight,   Are hurled into the city. Churches lie   In ruined heaps, and Notre Dame's royal tower   Begins at length to bow its lofty head.   They also have formed powder-vaults below,   And thus, above a subterranean hell,   The timid city every hour expects,   'Midst crashing thunder, to break forth in flames.      [JOHANNA listens with close attention, and places      the helmet on her head.   THIBAUT.   But where were then our heroes? Where the swords   Of Saintrailles, and La Hire, and brave Dunois,   Of France the bulwark, that the haughty foe   With such impetuous force thus onward rushed?   Where is the king? Can he supinely see   His kingdom's peril and his cities' fall?   BERTRAND.   The king at Chinon holds his court; he lacks   Soldiers to keep the field. Of what avail   The leader's courage, and the hero's arm,   When pallid fear doth paralyze the host?   A sudden panic, as if sent from God,   Unnerves the courage of the bravest men.   In vain the summons of the king resounds   As when the howling of the wolf is heard,   The sheep in terror gather side by side,   So Frenchmen, careless of their ancient fame,   Seek only now the shelter of the towns.   One knight alone, I have been told, has brought   A feeble company, and joins the king   With sixteen banners.   JOHANNA (quickly).               What's the hero's name?   BERTRAND.   'Tis Baudricour. But much I fear the knight   Will not be able to elude the foe,   Who track him closely with too numerous hosts.   JOHANNA.   Where halts the knight? Pray tell me, if you know.   BERTRAND.   About a one day's march from Vaucouleurs.   THIBAUT (to JOHANNA).   Why, what is that to thee? Thou dost inquire   Concerning matters which become thee not.   BERTRAND.   The foe being now so strong, and from the king   No safety to be hoped, at Vaucouleurs   They have with unanimity resolved   To yield them to the Duke of Burgundy.   Thus we avoid the foreign yoke, and still   Continue by our ancient royal line;   Ay, to the ancient crown we may fall back   Should France and Burgundy be reconciled.   JOHANNA (as if inspired).   Speak not of treaty! Speak not of surrender!   The savior comes, he arms him for the fight.   The fortunes of the foe before the walls   Of Orleans shall be wrecked! His hour is come,   He now is ready for the reaper's hand,   And with her sickle will the maid appear,   And mow to earth the harvest of his pride.   She from the heavens will tear his glory down,   Which he had hung aloft among the stars;   Despair not! Fly not! for ere yonder corn   Assumes its golden hue, or ere the moon   Displays her perfect orb, no English horse   Shall drink the rolling waters of the Loire.   BERTRAND.   Alas! no miracle will happen now!   JOHANNA.   Yes, there shall yet be one—a snow-white dove   Shall fly, and with the eagle's boldness, tear   The birds of prey which rend her fatherland.   She shall o'erthrow this haughty Burgundy,   Betrayer of the kingdom; Talbot, too,   The hundred-handed, heaven-defying scourge;   This Salisbury, who violates our fanes,   And all these island robbers shall she drive   Before her like a flock of timid lambs.   The Lord will be with her, the God of battle;   A weak and trembling creature he will choose,