Friedrich Schiller

“ I never with the sword could open hearts Against me closed in hatred's cold reserve. SOREL. The people's eye is dimmed, an error blinds them, But this delusion will not long endure; The day is not far distant when the love Deep rooted in the bosom of the French, Towards their native monarch, will revive, Together with the ancient jealousy, Which forms a barrier 'twixt the hostile nations. The haughty foe precipitates his doom. Hence, with rash haste abandon not the field, With dauntless front contest each foot of ground, As thine own heart defend the town of Orleans! ”

“ SOREL. In thee 'twill rise with renovated life! Oh, in thyself have faith!—believe me, king, Not vainly hath a gracious destiny Redeemed thee from the ruin of thy house, And by thy brethren's death exalted thee, The youngest born, to an unlooked-for throne Heaven in thy gentle spirit hath prepared The leech to remedy the thousand ills By party rage inflicted on the land. The flames of civil discord thou wilt quench, And my heart tells me thou'lt establish peace, And found anew the monarchy of France. CHARLES. Not I! The rude and storm-vexed times require A pilot formed by nature to command. ”

“ The stranger king, who cometh from afar, Whose fathers' sacred ashes do not lie Interred among us; can he love our land? Who was not young among our youth, whose heart Respondeth not to our familiar words, Can he be as a father to our sons? THIBAUT. God save the king and France! We're peaceful folk, Who neither wield the sword, nor rein the steed. —Let us await the king whom victory crowns; The fate of battle is the voice of God. He is our lord who crowns himself at Rheims, And on his head receives the holy oil. ”

“ Not the renown of France, my Fatherland, Not the new splendor of the monarch's crow, Not the triumphant gladness of the crowds, Engage this woman's heart. One only form Is in its depths enshrined; it hath no room For any feeling save for one alone: He is the idol, him the people bless, Him they extol, for him they strew these flowers, And he is mine, he is my own true love! JOHANNA. Oh, thou art happy! thou art blessed indeed! Thou lovest, where all love. Thou may'st, unblamed Pour forth thy rapture, and thine inmost heart, Fearless discover to the gaze of man! ”

“ With heavy gold he will redeem his son, When he shall hear I'm in the camp of France. JHANNA. Deluded mortal! to destruction doomed! Thou'rt fallen in the maiden's hand, from which Redemption or deliverance there is none. Had adverse fortune given thee a prey To the fierce tiger or the crocodile— Hadst robbed the lion mother of her brood— Compassion thou might'st hope to find and pity; But to encounter me is certain death. For my dread compact with the spirit realm— The stern inviolable—bindeth me, To slay each living thing whom battle's God, Full charged with doom, delivers to my sword. ”

“ 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? ”

“ Princely thy port, no Briton dost thou seem, For the Burgundian colors stripe thy shield, Before the which my sword inclines its point. KNIGHT. Vile castaway! Thou all unworthy art To fall beneath a prince's noble hand. The hangman's axe should thy accursed head Cleave from thy trunk, unfit for such vile use The royal Duke of Burgundy's brave sword. JOHANNA. Art thou indeed that noble duke himself? KNIGHT (raises his visor) . I'm he, vile creature, tremble and despair! The arts of hell shall not protect thee more. Thou hast till now weak dastards overcome; Now thou dost meet a man. ”

“ But in the heart's recesses darkness dwells! BURGUNDY. Oh, she can mould me to her wish; my heart Is in her forming hand like melted wax. —Duchatel, I forgive thee—come, embrace me! Shade of my sire! oh, not with wrathful eye Behold me clasp the hand that shed thy blood. Ye death-gods, reckon not to my account, That my dread oath of vengeance I abjure. With you, in yon drear realm of endless night, There beats no human heart, and all remains Eternal, steadfast, and immovable. Here in the light of day 'tis otherwise. Man, living, feeling man, is aye the sport Of the o'ermastering present. ”

“ Thou art banished? By the Dauphin? JOHANNA. Inquire no further! I am in thy power, Decide my fate. ISABEL. Banished, because thou hast Snatched him from ruin, placed upon his brow The crown at Rheims, and made him King of France? Banished! Therein I recognize my son! —Conduct her to the camp, and let the host Behold the phantom before whom they trembled! She a magician? Her sole magic lies In your delusion and your cowardice! She is a fool who sacrificed herself To save her king, and reapeth for her pains A king's reward. ”

“ I feel the grasp of death! JOHANNA. Die, friend! Why tremble at the approach of death? Of mortals the irrevocable doom? Look upon me! I'm born a shepherd maid; This hand, accustomed to the peaceful crook, Is all unused to wield the sword of death. Yet, snatched away from childhood's peaceful haunts, From the fond love of father and of sisters, Urged by no idle dream of earthly glory, But heaven-appointed to achieve your ruin, Like a destroying angel I must roam, Spreading dire havoc around me, and at length Myself must fall a sacrifice to death! ”

“ I have a right to hate him—he's my son. TALBOT. He feels his mother in her dire revenge! ISABEL. Mean hypocrites! I hate you and despise. Together with the world, you cheat yourselves! With robber-hands you English seek to clutch This realm of France, where you have no just right, Nor equitable claim, to so much earth As could be covered by your charger's hoof. —This duke, too, whom the people style the Good, Doth to a foreign lord, his country's foe, For gold betray the birthland of his sires. And yet is justice ever on your tongue. ”

“ Let thy achieved renown Content thee. Fortune, like thy slave, till now Hath followed thee; dismiss her, ere in wrath She free herself; fidelity she hates; She serveth none with constancy till death. JOHANNA. Why check me in the midst of my career? Why bid me falter and forsake my work? I will complete it and fulfil my vow! BLACK KNIGHT. Nothing can thee, thou mighty one, withstand, In battle thou art aye invincible. But henceforth shun the fight; attend my warning. JOHANNA. Not from my hand will I resign this sword Till haughty England's prostrate in the dust. ”

“ A wondrous daughter God hath given you! JOHANNA. We shall no longer serve a native prince! The king, who never dies, shall pass away— The guardian of the sacred plough, who fills The earth with plenty, who protects our herds, Who frees the bondmen from captivity, Who gathers all his cities round his throne— Who aids the helpless, and appals the base, Who envies no one, for he reigns supreme; Who is a mortal, yet an angel too, Dispensing mercy on the hostile earth. For the king's throne, which glitters o'er with gold, Affords a shelter for the destitute ”

“ SCENE II. KING CHARLES. The same. CHARLES. The Constable hath sent us back his sword And doth renounce our service. Now, by heaven! He thus hath rid us of a churlish man, Who insolently sought to lord it o'er us. DUNOIS. A man is precious in such perilous times; I would not deal thus lightly with his loss. CHARLES. Thou speakest thus from love of opposition; While he was here thou never wert his friend. DUNOIS. He was a tiresome, proud, vexatious fool, Who never could resolve. For once, however, He hath resolved. Betimes he goeth hence, Where honor can no longer be achieved. ”

“ Still, many of your people I must slay, Still, many widows make, but I at length Myself shall perish, and fulfil my doom. Now thine fulfil. Arise! resume thy sword, And let us fight for the sweet prize of life. MONTGOMERY (stands up) . Now, if thou art a mortal like myself, Can weapons wound thee, it may be assigned To this good arm to end my country's woe, Thee sending, sorceress, to the depths of hell. In God's most gracious hands I leave my fate. Accursed one! to thine assistance call The fiends of hell! Now combat for thy life! ”

“ 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. ”

“ TALBOT. Folly, thou conquerest, and I must yield! Against stupidity the very gods. Themselves contend in vain. Exalted reason, Resplendent daughter of the head divine, Wise foundress of the system of the world, Guide of the stars, who art thou then if thou, Bound to the tail of folly's uncurbed steed, Must, vainly shrieking with the drunken crowd, Eyes open, plunge down headlong in the abyss. Accursed, who striveth after noble ends, And with deliberate wisdom forms his plans! To the fool-king belongs the world. LIONEL. My lord, But for a few brief moments can you live— Think of your Maker! ”

“ Let my example challenge thee To noble self-denial! Let's at once Cast off the needless ornaments of life! Thy courtiers metamorphose into soldiers; Thy gold transmute to iron; all thou hast, With resolute daring, venture for thy crown! Peril and want we will participate! Let us bestride the war-horse, and expose Our tender person to the fiery glow Of the hot sun, take for our canopy The clouds above, and make the stones our pillow. The rudest warrior, when he sees his king Bear hardship and privation like the meanest Will patiently endure his own hard lot! ”

“ He comes! My title he will recognize, And do me homage as his sovereign liege? CHATILLON. Here, in his royal town of Chalons, sire, The duke, my master, will fall down before thee. He did command me, as my lord and king, To give thee greeting. He'll be here anon. SOREL. He comes! Hail beauteous and auspicious day, Which bringeth joy, and peace, and reconcilement! CHATILLON. The duke, attended by two hundred knights, Will hither come; he at thy feet will kneel; But he expecteth not that thou to him Should yield the cordial greeting of a kinsman. ”

“ Thou Hast all achieved. Speak, how can I reward thee? JOHANNA. Sire, in prosperity be still humane, As in misfortune thou hast ever been; And on the height of greatness ne'er forget The value of a friend in times of need; Thou hast approved it in adversity. Refuse not to the lowest of thy people The claims of justice and humanity, For thy deliverer from the fold was called. Beneath thy royal sceptre thou shalt gather The realm entire of France. Thou shalt become The root and ancestor of mighty kings; Succeeding monarchs, in their regal state, Shall those outshine, who filled the throne before. ”

“ Receive this banner! Gird thee with this sword! Therewith exterminate my people's foes; Conduct to Rheims thy royal master's son, And crown him with the kingly diadem!" And I made answer: "How may I presume To undertake such deeds, a tender maid, Unpractised in the dreadful art of war!" And she replied: "A maiden pure and chaste Achieves whate'er on earth is glorious If she to earthly love ne'er yields her heart. Look upon me! a virgin, like thyself; I to the Christ, the Lord divine, gave birth, And am myself divine!" ”

“ Turn! combat now with men, and not with maids. LA HIRE. We will defend the holy prophetess; First must thy weapon penetrate this breast. BURGUNDY. I fear not this seducing Circe; no, Nor you, whom she hath changed so shamefully! Oh, blush, Dunois! and do thou blush, La Hire To stoop thy valor to these hellish arts— To be shield-bearer to a sorceress! Come one—come all! He only who despairs Of heaven's protection seeks the aid of hell. ”

“ Many brave knights I find assembled here, And joy's glad radiance beams in every eye; One mourner, one alone I have encountered; He must conceal himself, where all rejoice. BURGUNDY. And who is conscious of such heavy guilt, That of our favor he must needs despair? JOHANNA. May he approach? Oh, tell me that he may; Complete thy merit. Void the reconcilement That frees not the whole heart. A drop of hate Remaining in the cup of joy converts The blessed draught to poison. Let there be No deed so stained with blood that Burgundy Cannot forgive it on this day of joy. BURGUNDY. Ha! ”