Charles Monologue from The Robbers

From The Robbers by Friedrich Schiller

male · anguished · 49 sec

Here must I lie (throwing himself upon the ground). I feel as if my limbs were all shattered. My tongue is as dry as a potsherd (SCHWEITZER disappears unperceived.) I would ask one of you to bring me a handful of water from that stream, but you are all tired to death. (SCHWARZ: Our wine-flasks too are all empty.) See how beautiful the harvest looks! The trees are breaking with the weight of their fruit. The vines are full of promise. (GRIMM: It is a fruitful year.) Do you think so? Then at least one toil in the world will be repaid. One? Yet in the night a hailstorm may come and destroy it all.

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