The Robbers. Фридрих Шиллер
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Friedrich Schiller
The Robbers
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4057664153036
Table of Contents
AS PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THE ROBBERS
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
SCENE II.—A Tavern on the Frontier of Saxony.
SCENE III.—MOOR'S Castle.—AMELIA'S Chamber.
SCENE I.—FRANCIS VON MOOR in his chamber—in meditation.
SCENE II.—Old Moor's Bedchamber.
SCENE III.—THE BOHEMIAN WOODS.
SCENE I.—AMELIA in the garden, playing the guitar.
SCENE II.—Country near the Danube.
SCENE II.*—Gallery in the Castle.
SCENE III.—Another Room in the Castle.
SCENE I. A vista of rooms. Dark night.
SCENE II.—The scene the same as the last scene of the preceding Act.
SCHILLER'S PREFACE.
AS PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THE ROBBERS
PUBLISHED IN 1781.
Now first translated into English.
This play is to be regarded merely as a dramatic narrative in which, for the purpose of tracing out the innermost workings of the soul, advantage has been taken of the dramatic method, without otherwise conforming to the stringent rules of theatrical composition, or seeking the dubious advantage of stage adaptation. It must be admitted as somewhat inconsistent that three very remarkable people, whose acts are dependent on perhaps a thousand contingencies, should be completely developed within three hours, considering that it would scarcely be possible, in the ordinary course of events, that three such remarkable people should, even in twenty-four hours, fully reveal their characters to the most penetrating inquirer. A greater amount of incident is here crowded together than it was possible for me to confine within the narrow limits prescribed by Aristotle and Batteux.
It is, however, not so much the bulk of my play as its contents which banish it from the stage. Its scheme and economy require that several characters should appear who would offend the finer feelings of virtue and shock the delicacy of our manners. Every delineator of human character is placed in the same dilemma if he proposes to give a faithful picture of the world as it really is, and not an ideal phantasy, a mere creation of his own. It is the course of mortal things that the good should be shadowed by the bad, and virtue shine the brightest when contrasted with vice. Whoever proposes to discourage vice and to vindicate religion, morality, and social order against their enemies, must unveil crime in all its deformity, and place it before the eyes of men in its colossal magnitude; he must diligently explore its dark mazes, and make himself familiar with sentiments at the wickedness of which his soul revolts.
Vice is here exposed in its innermost workings. In Francis it resolves all the confused terrors of conscience into wild abstractions, destroys virtuous sentiments by dissecting them, and holds up the earnest voice of religion to mockery and scorn. He who has gone so far (a distinction by no means enviable) as to quicken his understanding at the expense of his soul—to him the holiest things are no longer holy; to him God and man are alike indifferent, and both worlds are as nothing. Of such a monster I have endeavored to sketch a striking and lifelike portrait, to hold up to abhorrence all the machinery of his scheme of vice, and to test its strength by contrasting it with truth. How far my narrative is successful in accomplishing these objects the reader is left to judge. My conviction is that I have painted nature to the life.
Next to this man (Francis) stands another who would perhaps puzzle not a few of my readers. A mind for which the greatest crimes have only charms through the glory which attaches to them, the energy which their perpetration requires, and the dangers which attend them. A remarkable and important personage, abundantly endowed with the power of becoming either a Brutus or a Catiline, according as that power is directed. An unhappy conjunction of circumstances determines him to choose the latter for, his example, and it is only after a fearful straying that he is recalled