Charles The Seventh Monologue from The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy

From The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy by Friedrich Schiller

male · philosophical · 1:10 min

It is a sportive festival, a jest, Wherein he giveth to his fancy play, To found a world all innocent and pure In this barbaric, rude reality. Yet noble--ay, right royal is his aim! He will again restore the golden age, When gentle manners reigned, when faithful love The heroic hearts of valiant knights inspired, And noble women, whose accomplished taste Diffuseth grace around, in judgment sat. The old man dwelleth in those bygone times, And in our workday world would realize The dreams of ancient bards, who picture life 'Mid bowers celestial, throned on golden clouds. He hath established hence a court of love Where valiant knights may dwell, and homage yield To noble women, who are there enthroned, And where pure love and true may find a home. Me he hath chosen as the prince of love.

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