Johanna Monologue from The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy

From The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy by Friedrich Schiller

female · defiant · 1:20 min

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; Power and compassion meet together there, The guilty tremble, but the just draw near, And with the guardian lion fearless sport! 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?

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