The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 401

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 a.s.sembled 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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.ble, 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 n.o.ble 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 companions.h.i.+p; Seeks out the desert mountains, leaves her couch Before the crowing of the morning c.o.c.k, 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 G.o.d 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 n.o.ble 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 G.o.d 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 h.e.l.l 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.

Hus.h.!.+ 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 pa.s.sage 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."