The Maid of Orleans. Фридрих Шиллер. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Фридрих Шиллер
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Документальная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4057664646965
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SCENE VII.

       SCENE VIII.

       SCENE IX.

       SCENE X.

       SCENE XI.

       SCENE XII.

       SCENE IV.

       SCENE XIV.

       Table of Contents

      A rural District. To the right, a Chapel with an Image of the Virgin; to

       the left, an ancient Oak.

       Table of Contents

      THIBAUT D'ARC. His Three Daughters. Three young Shepherds,

       their Suitors.

       THIBAUT.

       Ay, my good neighbors! we at least to-day

       Are Frenchmen still, free citizens and lords

       Of the old soil which our forefathers tilled.

       Who knows whom we to-morrow 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.

       Table of Contents

      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