Thibaut D'Arc Monologue from The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy

From The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy by Friedrich Schiller

male · anguished · 1:21 min

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?) Here is this noble 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.

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