Friedrich Schiller - The Maid of Orleans (Act 3 Scene 1) lyrics

Residence of the KING at Chalons on the Marne. DUNOIS, LA HIRE. DUNOIS We have been true heart-friends, brothers in arms, Still have we battled in a common cause, And held together amid toil and d**h. Let not the love of woman rend the bond Which hath resisted every stroke of fate. LA HIRE Hear me, my prince! DUNOIS You love the wondrous maid, And well I know the purpose of your heart. You think without delay to seek the king, And to entreat him to bestow on you Her hand in marriage. Of your bravery The well-earned guerdon he cannot refuse But know,—ere I behold her in the arms Of any other—— LA HIRE Listen to me, prince! DUNOIS 'Tis not the fleeting pa**ion of the eye Attracts me to her. My unconquered sense Had set at naught the fiery shafts of love Till I beheld this wondrous maiden, sent By a divine appointment to become The savior of this kingdom, and my wife; And on the instant in my heart I vowed A sacred oath, to bear her home, my bride. For she alone who is endowed with strength Can be the strong man's friend. This glowing heart Longs to repose upon a kindred breast, Which can sustain and comprehend its strength. LA HIRE How dare I venture, prince, my poor deserts To measure with your name's heroic fame! When Count Dunois appeareth in the lists, Each humbler suitor must forsake the field; Still it doth ill become a shepherd maid To stand as consort by your princely side. The royal current in your veins would scorn To mix with blood of baser quality. DUNOIS She, like myself, is holy Nature's child, A child divine—hence we by birth are equal. She bring dishonor on a prince's hand, Who is the holy angel's bride, whose head Is by a heavenly glory circled round, Whose radiance far outshineth earthly crowns, Who seeth lying far beneath her feet All that is greatest, highest of this earth! For thrones on thrones, ascending to the stars, Would fail to reach the height where she abides In angel majesty! LA HIRE Our monarch must decide. DUNOIS Not so! she must Decide! Free hath she made this realm of France, And she herself must freely give her heart. LA HIRE. Here comes the king!