The Maid of Orleans Act 3 Scene 2 by Friedrich Schiller Lyrics
CHARLES, AGNES, SOREL, DUCHATEL, and CHATILLON.
The same.
CHARLES (to CHATILLON)
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.
CHARLES
I long to clasp him to my throbbing heart.
CHATILLON
The duke entreats that at this interview,
No word be spoken of the ancient strife!
CHARLES
In Lethe be the past forever sunk!
The smiling future now invites our gaze.
CHATILLON
All who have combated for Burgundy
Shall be included in the amnesty.
CHARLES
So shall my realm be doubled in extent!
CHATILLON
Queen Isabel, if she consent thereto,
Shall also be included in the peace.
CHARLES
She maketh war on me, not I on her.
With her alone it rests to end our quarrel.
CHATILLON
Twelve knights shall answer for thy royal word.
CHARLES
My word is sacred.
CHATILLON
The archbishop shall
Between you break the consecrated host,
As pledge and seal of cordial reconcilement.
CHARLES
Let my eternal weal be forfeited,
If my hand's friendly grasp belie my heart.
What other surety doth the duke require?
CHATILLON (glancing at DUCHATEL)
I see one standing here, whose presence, sire,
Perchance might poison the first interview.
[DUCHATEL retires in silence.]
CHARLES
Depart, Duchatel, and remain concealed
Until the duke can bear thee in his sight.
[He follows him with his eye, then hastens after
and embraces him.]
True-hearted friend! Thou wouldst far more than this
Have done for my repose!
[Exit DUCHATEL.]
CHATILLON
This instrument doth name the other points.
CHARLES (to the ARCHBISHOP)
Let it be settled. We agree to all.
We count no price too high to gain a friend.
Go now, Dunois, and with a hundred knights,
Give courteous conduct to the noble duke.
Let the troops, garlanded with verdant boughs,
Receive their comrades with a joyous welcome.
Be the whole town arrayed in festive pomp,
And let the bells with joyous peal, proclaim
That France and Burgundy are reconciled.
[A PAGE enters. Trumpets sound.]
Hark! What importeth that loud trumpet's call?
PAGE
The Duke of Burgundy hath stayed his march.
[Exit.]
DUNOIS
Up! forth to meet him!
[Exit with LA HIRE and CHATILLON.]
CHARLES (to SOREL)
My Agnes! thou dost weep! Even my strength
Doth almost fail me at this interview.
How many victims have been doomed to fall
Ere we could meet in peace and reconcilement!
But every storm at length suspends its rage,
Day follows on the murkiest night; and still
When comes the hour, the latest fruits mature!
ARCHBISHOP (at the window)
The thronging crowds impede the duke's advance;
He scarce can free himself. They lift him now
From off his horse; they kiss his spurs, his mantle.
CHARLES
They're a good people, in whom love flames forth
As suddenly as wrath. In how brief space
They do forget that 'tis this very duke
Who slew, in fight, their fathers and their sons;
The moment swallows up the whole of life!
Be tranquil, Sorel. E'en thy passionate joy
Perchance might to his conscience prove a thorn.
Nothing should either shame or grieve him here.
The same.
CHARLES (to CHATILLON)
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.
CHARLES
I long to clasp him to my throbbing heart.
CHATILLON
The duke entreats that at this interview,
No word be spoken of the ancient strife!
CHARLES
In Lethe be the past forever sunk!
The smiling future now invites our gaze.
CHATILLON
All who have combated for Burgundy
Shall be included in the amnesty.
CHARLES
So shall my realm be doubled in extent!
CHATILLON
Queen Isabel, if she consent thereto,
Shall also be included in the peace.
CHARLES
She maketh war on me, not I on her.
With her alone it rests to end our quarrel.
CHATILLON
Twelve knights shall answer for thy royal word.
CHARLES
My word is sacred.
CHATILLON
The archbishop shall
Between you break the consecrated host,
As pledge and seal of cordial reconcilement.
CHARLES
Let my eternal weal be forfeited,
If my hand's friendly grasp belie my heart.
What other surety doth the duke require?
CHATILLON (glancing at DUCHATEL)
I see one standing here, whose presence, sire,
Perchance might poison the first interview.
[DUCHATEL retires in silence.]
CHARLES
Depart, Duchatel, and remain concealed
Until the duke can bear thee in his sight.
[He follows him with his eye, then hastens after
and embraces him.]
True-hearted friend! Thou wouldst far more than this
Have done for my repose!
[Exit DUCHATEL.]
CHATILLON
This instrument doth name the other points.
CHARLES (to the ARCHBISHOP)
Let it be settled. We agree to all.
We count no price too high to gain a friend.
Go now, Dunois, and with a hundred knights,
Give courteous conduct to the noble duke.
Let the troops, garlanded with verdant boughs,
Receive their comrades with a joyous welcome.
Be the whole town arrayed in festive pomp,
And let the bells with joyous peal, proclaim
That France and Burgundy are reconciled.
[A PAGE enters. Trumpets sound.]
Hark! What importeth that loud trumpet's call?
PAGE
The Duke of Burgundy hath stayed his march.
[Exit.]
DUNOIS
Up! forth to meet him!
[Exit with LA HIRE and CHATILLON.]
CHARLES (to SOREL)
My Agnes! thou dost weep! Even my strength
Doth almost fail me at this interview.
How many victims have been doomed to fall
Ere we could meet in peace and reconcilement!
But every storm at length suspends its rage,
Day follows on the murkiest night; and still
When comes the hour, the latest fruits mature!
ARCHBISHOP (at the window)
The thronging crowds impede the duke's advance;
He scarce can free himself. They lift him now
From off his horse; they kiss his spurs, his mantle.
CHARLES
They're a good people, in whom love flames forth
As suddenly as wrath. In how brief space
They do forget that 'tis this very duke
Who slew, in fight, their fathers and their sons;
The moment swallows up the whole of life!
Be tranquil, Sorel. E'en thy passionate joy
Perchance might to his conscience prove a thorn.
Nothing should either shame or grieve him here.