% WILLIAM TELL; A PLAY BY SCHILLER. L0N1>0N : PRINTED BY S. AND R- BENT LEY, Dorset Street, Fleet Sueet. £/OC WILLIAM TELL; A PLAY, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER^'^^^ ^-^ WITH ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES. .U'^oyyj .- . . " ,vh y- > . ^ Twas Jate the instrutnent of tyranny ; Hereafter let it be the sign of Freedom ! ACT T. sc. I. LONDON : EDWARD BULL, HOLLES STREET, 1829. INICKE r PREFACE. Perhaps there is no European country in which the Wilhelm Tell of Schiller is so little known as in Eng- land ; yet none can be more capable of entering into the spirit of liberty and poetry which pervades it. In every kingdom and province of Germany it has long been a stock play. Even Austria has received it in spite of national prejudices. So sensible was Madame de Stael of its merit, that she devoted a part of her work on Germany to a review of its principal scenes. Her opinion will always have weight in the literary world ; and thus strongly has it been given in favour of the work in question. " Le Guillaume Tell de Schil- ler est revetu de ces couleurs vives et brilliantes, qui transportent Timagination dans les contrees pittores- ques o^ la respectable conjuration du Riitli est passee. M42ii40 VI PREFACE. Des premiers vers on croit entendre resonner les cors des Alpes. * * =^ tout inspire un interet anime pour la Suisse ; et Tunite d'action dans cette tragedie, tient a Tart d^avoir fait de la nation meme un personage dramatique."" Entirely agreeing with these remarks, the translator offers the following pages to the world with a full sense of his incompetency to do justice to the original play. His sole motive in publishing them has been a wish to make the English reader acquainted with one of the best of Schiller's productions, and one which, strange to say, has not, as far as he can learn, yet appeared in the English language. In translating into verse there are occasions continually occurring where it may be permitted to insert or omit a word, so that the sense of the original be not substantially changed. Of this permission he has been, in some few instances, obliged to avail himself; but generally, the play will be found to have been translated line for line, and he hopes — not unfaithfully. '. DRAMATIS PERSONiE. Inhabitants of Smtz. Inhabitants of Uri. Herman Gessler, Imperial Goternor of Szcitz and Uri. Werner, Baron of Attinghausen, Bannerherr. Ulric von RvBE^iz, his Nephew. Werner Stauffacher, ^ KoNRAD Hunn, 1 Itel Reding, \ Hans auf der Mauer, JoRG iM Hofe, Ulric the Smith, JosT VON Weiler William Tell, Walter Furst, Rozelman the Priest, Peter MAN the Sacrist , KuoNi the Herd, Werni the Hunter^ RuoDi the Fisherman Arnold VON Melchthal, KoNRAD BaUMGARTEN, Meier von Sarnen, Struth von Winkelried, Klaus von der Flue, BURKHART AM BuHEL, Arnold von Sewa Pfeifer q/' Lucerne. KuNz o/'Gersau. Jenni, a Fisher -boy. Seppi, a Herdsman s boy. Gertrude, Stauffacher s Wife. Men of Underpaid. viii DRAMATIS PERSONS. Hedwig, TeWs wife, and Walter F'urst's daughter. Bertha von Bruneck, a rich Heiress. Armgart, \ Mecthild, f r> . ^ ' > Feasant women. liLSBETH, [ HiLDEGARD, J «T ' > TelVs children. vVlLHELM, 3 Fr.ESHAHT.) g^j^^^^^ Leuthold, 3 ^ Rudolph der H arras, Gessler's Master of the Horse. Johannes Parricida, Duke of Swahin. The Stier of Uri. Stussi, a Ranger. '*\ An Imperial Courier. \ An Officer of the Serfs. A Master Stone-cutter y Companions, and Handworkers. A Common Crier. Monks of the Order of Charity. Horsemen of Gessler and Landenberger. Many Country-people ; Men and Women from the Waldstetten. WILLIAM TELL. ACT I. SCENE I. The high rocky shore of the Vierwaldstettensee,^ over against Switz. The lake forms a bay in the land. Near the shore is a hut. A Fi^her-boy passes in a boat. At a distance over the lake are seen the green niea- doivs, villages, and farm-houses of Switz, lying in the clear sunshine. To the left are the tops of the Haken covered by the clouds. To the right, far away in the back-ground, are seen the glaciers. Before the cur- tain rises, the Cowherds'' melody f is heard, as ivell as the sound of the cattle-bells, which continues for some time after the opening of the scene. Fisher-boy {sings in his boat). The smiling lake tempted to bathe in its tide. A youth lay asleep on its green-swarded side. * The Vierwaldstettensee, or Lake of the four Cantons of the Forest, is in England commonly^ but perhaps improperly, called the Lake of Lucerne. Anciently the Cantons were but three in number, viz. Uri, Underwald, and Switz. Lucerne was added subsequently to the period at which this play opens. -}• This is called Kuhreihen in German, but is probably better B ^ WILLIAM TELL. act i. There heard he a melody Flowing and s\v eet, As when voices of angels In paradise meet. As thrilung with pleasure he wakes from his rest, — Up rises the water — it flows o'er his breast ! • ; : Aod a voice from the deep Cries, " With me must thou go, I lure the young shepherds. And drag them below." Herdsman {on the mountains). Ye meadows, farewell ! And thou sunny-green shore. The herd must depart. For the summer is o'er. We traverse the mountain, yet come we again, When the birds of the spring re-awaken their strain ; When the earth with new flow'rets its breast shall array. And the rivulet flow, in love's own month of May. Ye meadows, farewell ! And thou green sunny shore. The herd must depart. For the summer is o'er. Chamois Hunter (appearing on the top of a cliff.) When it thunders on high, and the mountain bridge shakes, Undismay'd the bold hunter his dizzy path takes. known to the reader by the title of Rans de Vaches. The herds- men of the Alps play it on a long horn when they drive their flocks. Nothing inflames more a Switzer's longing for home, than this simple strain. Among the Swiss regiments in the service of France, before the Revolution, it was forbidden to be sung under pain of death. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. ^ He daringly strides o'er The icy-bound plain. Where spring ne*er can flourish. Nor verdure e'er reign. All under his feet is a wide misty sea. Which shuts from his sight where man's dwelling may be, Save when, through a rent In the clouds, is reveal'd, Deep under their billows. The green of the field. The appearance of the landscape changes. A dull cracking sound is heard among the mountains. Sha- dows of clouds pass over the ground. RUODI the Fisherman comes from his hut ; Wernj the Hunter descends the cliff; KuoNi the Herdsmari enters with a milk-pail on his shoulder, and Seppi his assistant boy follows him. RuODi, {Calling to his boy in the boat.) Haste, Jenni, haste, and draw the boat ashore. The grizzly Thalvogt* comes. The Firnf sends forth * The Thalvogt (or Governor of the dale) is a grey mist so called, which comes from the mountains into the valleys in Swit- zerland, and usually precedes bad weather. t The Firn is the upper part of the mountains where the ice commences. At sunrise and sunset it has often a red appearance, which is spoken of farther on. In stormy weather the wind blow- ing amongst the masses of ice causes the sound here alluded to. B 2 4 WILLIAM TELL. act i. Its low dull roar. The Myttenstein* Puts on her hood, and from the weatherlock^f The breeze blows coldly. A storm, I 'm thinking, will be there ere long. KUO. There 's rain approaching, boatman; for my sheep Eat eagerly the grass. The watch-dogs, too, Scratch up the earth. WER. The fishes leap. The water-fowl Begin to dive. A storm is drawing on. KUO. Look, Seppi, if the cattle have not strayed. SEP. There goes brown Lissel — well I know her bells. KUO. So — then the rest are near. Of all the herd She ever strays the farthest. RUO. You Ve handsome cattle-bells,j: good master herdsman. * The Myttenstein is a tall cloudcapt rock bordering on the Lake. ■j- The Weatherlock is the opening between two mountains, and through which the weather is said to. come. The German word is Wetterlock, which I have ventured to anglicise for want of a word expressive of its meaning. X These cattle-bells are called in German, Gelaiite, and at- tached to bands placed around the necks of the cattle. They are very similar to those which were formerly worn by pack-horses in England. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 5 WER. And likely beasts. — Are they your own, my countryman ? KUO. r faith, I 'm not so rich. My gracious lord Of Attinghausen counts* them out to me. RUO. How well that band becomes yon heifer's throat ! KUO. She knows it, too, and always heads the herd. She wouldn't eat were I to take it from her. RUO. Pooh — you talk idly ! A poor senseless beast — WER. That 's sooner said than proved. Beasts are not senseless. And we who hunt the chamois know it well. How prudently disposed they walk the mead, With sentinels advanced, who prick their ears. And piping shrill, give warning to the rest Whene'er the hunter comes ! RUO (to the Herdsman.) Go you now home ? KUO. Ay, for the Alp 's depastured. WER. A safe return then to ye. KUO. Same to you. The road which you pursue is not the one Which always leads to home ! * In Switzerland, when the cattle are taken out to pasture, it is the custom for the proprietor to count them out to the herds- man, who when they return home, is obliged to deliver in the number previously counted. ^ WILLIAM TELL. act i. RUO. See, there 's a man runs hither full of haste. WER. I know him. He is Baumgarten, of Alzel. Enter Ko^RAX) BAVMGARTEiSi, precipitately and breathless. BAUM. Your boat, good ferryman, for love of God ! RUO. How now ! Why all this haste ? BAUM. Unmoor, unmoor. You '11 rescue me from death. Quick, set me o'er ! KUO. What ails you, countryman ? WER. Say — who pursues you ? BAUM. Haste, haste — they Ve close upon my heels ! — They come — The horsemen of the Governor. Oh, quick ! — My death is certain if they apprehend me. RUO. But why do they pursue you ? BAUM. Save me first — And then I '11 tell you all. WER. You're spotted o'er With blood ! Say, what has chanced. BAUM The Emp'ror's Seneschal, Who dwelt at Rossberg — KUO. Wolfenshiesen ? What ! Doth he pursue you ? sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 7 BAUM. He '11 pursue no more. I Ve slain him ! ALL. God assoil thee ! What hast done ? BAUM. What every freeman, placed as I, had done. I 've exercised my hearth-right 'gainst the man That sought to soil my honour and my wife's. KUO. What ! did the Seneschal abuse your honour ? BAUM. He did not consummate his vile intent. Thanks be to God and my good axe for that ! WER. You cleft his skull then with your axe ? KUO. Let 's hear The whole. You yet have time until the boat Be loosen'd from the shore. BAUM. While felling wood Within the forest, thither came my wife Running, all agony. The Seneschal, She said, had come into my house, — had giv'n His orders that a bath should be prepared — And then had sought to do her shameful wrong. So that she fled to seek me. As I was, I straightway left the place, and with my axe I gave his bath a bloody benediction.* * The original runs thus — " Und mit der Axt hab' ich ihm*s Bad gesegnet." Which 8 WILLIAM TELL. act i. WER. You did but justice. Who'll gainsay the deed ? KUO. The tyrant ! — He hath now his recompense — He long deserved it from the Under walders !* BAUM. The deed was public— I shall be beset — God ! while we talk time flies — [It begins to thunder. KUO. Quick, ferryman ! Skull o'er the honest man. RUO. Impossible ! A heavy storm draws on, and you must wait. BAUM. I cannot wait, each moment of delay Brings death. Which may be rendered — " And M'ith the axe have I blessed the bath for him." The difficulty of admitting a strictly literal translation of this verse will hardly be contested ; but I trust that I may be par- doned for the one which I have adopted. The idea of blessing a m^n by doing him violence, is not altogether new to our lan- guage, — such, at least, as we find it spoken by persons of Baum- garten's rank in life. Among our peasantry one often hears a man say — " I gave him a blessing" — meaning I gave him a blow. * Wolfenshiesen was a native' of Switzerland, well born, and attached to the party of Albert of Austria, by whom he was ap- pointed to be governor of the Castle of Rossberg. His levity was well known and much dreaded. Some account of him and of his fate, such as described in the present scene, will be found in Muller's Hist, of the Swifes Eidgenossenschaft, Book I. Cap. 18. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. « KUO. to RUO. Put confidence in God. To help One's neighbour is man's duty ; — and we all May one day need the help that he requires. [ Thunder. RUO. The Fohn* is loose. See how the lake is toss'd ; I cannot steer my boat 'gainst wind and Avaves. Baumgarten {imploring on his knees.) May God help you, as you now pity me WER. Consider, boatman, it affects his life. KUO. He's father of a family — ^hath wife And children. (Loud peals of thunder.) RUO. What ! and have not I a life As well as he — and wife and child at home ? Look there — -look there ! — see how it rolls and rages, And how the whirlpool draws and stirs up all The waters of the deep. Right willingly would I the good man save, But 'tis impossible — yourself may see it. * The Fohn is a wind peculiar to this part of Switzerland. " It is not possible," says Muller, speaking of the Waldslettensee, '* to navigate this lake during a strong Fohn without the greatest peril ; so powerful is it that the laws of the land forbid any fire to be kept in the houses during the Fohn wind, and order the night watch to be doubled. The inhabitants of the high valleys secure the roofs of their houses against it, by loading them with large stones.'* See Die Geschichte Schwerzerischer Eidgenoseenschaft. Rook I. Cap. 18, Note 227. 10 WILLIAM TELL. act i. Baumgarten (still on his knees.) Then must I fall a victim to my foes, E'en with a place of refuge in my sight. There — there it is. I reach it with my eyes, A voice might easily be heard across. See there the boat that might transport me safe , Yet must I lie here helpless in despair. KUO. See, who comes hither ? WER. It is Tell of Burglen. Enter Tell, with a cross-how. TELL. What man is that imploring there for help ? KUO. An Alzel-man, that, for his honour's sake. Hath slain the Royal Seneschal at Rossberg. The horsemen of the State are at his heels- He begs a passage over of the boatman. And he '11 not go, because he fears the storm. RUO. There's Tell can guide a helm as well as I — Let him be judge if I may risk a passage. [Heavy thunder, the lake is agitated. Think you, I '11 leap into destruction's jaws ? That would no mortal in his senses. TELL. A brave man thinks not on himself till last ! Put trilst in God, and rescue the distress'd. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 11 RUO. Safe on dry land you counsel at your ease. The boat is there — and there the lake — attempt it ! TELL. The foaming water may be merciful, But not the Governor. Come, try it, boatman. WER. and KUO. Oh, save him ! save him ! RUO. Were he my brother, or my dearest child, I could not. ^Tis the festival of Jude,* And the lake rages for its sacrifice ! TELL. We can do nothing here with idle words, Time presses, and the man must have assistance. Say, ferryman, wilt over ? RUO. No, not I. TELL. Give here thy bark then, in the name of God ! And with my own poor craft, I'll try the passage. KUO. Ha! gallant Tell! WER. Done bravely ! like a hunter. BAUM. Thou ""rt my redeemer — ^my good angel, Tell. TELL. I will redeem you from the tyrant's power — Other than I must save you from the storm ; * There was, (and I believe still is,) a popular belief in this part of the world, that on the festival of Saint Jude, some one was destined to be drowned in the lake. This superstition is alluded to in the verses sung by the fisher-boy in the opening of the play. J2 WILLIAM TELL. ACT i. But better fall into the Almighty^s hands Than those of man. {To the herdsman.) My countryman ! do thou Bear comfort to my wife, if ought befal me. I Ve done but what I could not leave undone. [Springs into the boat. KUO. {to the boatman.) You're an experienced steers- man — could not you Attempt the hazard Tell hath undertaken ? RUO. Better men than I won't imitate him — There are not two like Tell in all the mountains. WER. He pushes off. God help thee, daring soul ! See how the shallop struggles with the waves. KUO. {from the shore.) The surge hath swampt her — shell be seen no more. Yet, stop — she's there, more distant : — Bravely done ! Right craftily he works her through the breakers. SEP. Here are the horsemen of the Governor. KUO. They're here, by Heav'n ! This, then, was help at need. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 13 Etiter a parti/ o/'Laudenberg's* horsemen. FIRST HORSEMAN. Give up the murderer you 've hidden here. SECOND HORSEMAN. He came this way — conceal- ment is in vain. KUONi and RUODi. What mean you? FIRST HORSEMAN (sees the boat.) Ha ! what see I there — damnation ! WERNi {above on the rock) Is't he i" tlie boat you seek ? Make after him — • Youll catch him yet — if you ride fast enough. SECOND HORSEMAN. Confusion ! He's escaped. FIRST HORSEMAN (to the Herdsman and Fisher.) 'Twas you that help'd him, And you shall smart forH. Fall we on their herds ! Down with the hut ! — Burn ! — Down with every thing ! [Exeunt Horsemen. SEP. (runs after them.) My lambs ! my lambs ! KUO. (folJoiving.) Alas! my herd. WER. The tyrants ! RUO. (wrings his hands.) Heavenly justice ! When shall our country find a liberator ? [Exit. * Von Laudenberg was Governor of Underwald. 14 WILLIAM TELL. act i. SCENE II. The outside of Stauffacher's house at Steinen in Switz. A lime tree before it, close by the public road, and near a bridge. Enter Werner^Stauffacher, and Pfeiffer OF Lucerne. PFEIF. (speaking as he enters.) Ay, ay, friend Stauf- facher, as I have said, Swear not to Austria if you can help it. Hold fast and stoutly by the realm as hitherto, And God will shield you and your ancient liberty. [Presses him heartily by the hand, and is about to go. STAUF. Yet stay until our hostess comes. In Switz You are my guest. / yours when in Lucerne. PFEIF. Thanks ; but ere sunset I must be at Gersau.- Whatever burthen you may have to bear. From greedy and presuming officers. Bear it with patience. Things may change. The realm May shortly have another emperor. Once Austria's bondman — you are her*'s for ever. [Exit. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 15 [Stauffacher seats himself sorrowfully on a bench under the lime tree. Gertrude, his wife, enters and finds him there. She places herself beside him, and, after a momenfs pause, breaks silence. GER. So serious, my husband ? Scarce I know thee. For many a day I Ve silently remark'*d Thy forehead furrowed, as in gloomy thought. Some silent sorrow presses on thy heart. Come, trust me with it — me, thine own true wife ; Here I demand my half of thy affliction. [He takes her hand, and is silent. What can oppress thy heart ? Oh, tell it me ? Blest is thy industry. Thy fortune flourishes. Full are thy barns, thy herds are numerous. Thy breed of steeds, so sleek and so well nurturM, Are brought in safety, from the mountains, home To winter in their well-appointed stalls. — There stands thy house upon a noble scite, All newly built with trunks of goodly trees, Ranged orderly and artfully together. Where many a glistening window speaks of home : With chequered scutcheons is it painted o'er. And sage inscriptions, which the traveller Stops to peruse, and marvels o''er their meaning. 16 WILLIAM TELL. ► act i. STAUF. The house is well constructed ; but, alas ! The ground on which weVe built it, stands not firm. GER. What meanest thou, my Werner ? Say. — STAUF. It was But yesterday, — I sat before that lime tree. Musing with pleasure on the work's accomplishment, When hither came the Governor from Kussnach, His castle, with his horsemen in attendance. . Before this house he stopt in admiration. I rose up quickly and respectfully — As was his due, — and stood before the man Who represents the realm's judicial pow'r In this unhappy land. " Whose house is that V Asked he maliciously : — he well knew whose ! — With short reflection, I made answer thus — " That house belongs to my good Lord and yours — The Emperor. — The fief is mine. Lord Governor.'' Then answered he, '^ I 'm Regent of this land. Placed in the Emp'ror's stead, and I will not That boors build houses at their own discretion, And so live on in freedom — just as if They were the nobles of the land ! — I'll take permission to prohibit this." So saying rode he insolently off, sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 17 And I remained, with sorrow-laden soul, Thinking on what the miscreant had spoken. GER. My Werner ! dearest husband ! Wilt thou hear A candid word of counsel from thy wife ? I boast me to be honoured Iberg's daughter, — That far-experienced man ; and oft have I Sat with my sisters, spinning wool o' nights, When at my father's met the people's elders. Read charters of the ancient Emperors, And held sage conference of the commonwealth. Listening, I there heard many a prudent word, Of what the wise man thought, and good man wish'd. Which in my heart I since have treasured up ; So hear, and have respect for what I say ; Then see that I have long known what oppressed thee. The Governor doth bear thee secret enmity, — May do thee wilful wrong ; for thou Vt to him A cause of hindrance why the Swiss will not Submit themselves to this new princely house, But true and steady to the realm remain, As did their worthy forefathers of old. Is't not so, Werner ? Speak I not the truth ? STAUF. 'Tis even so; and therefore Gessler hates|p me. — 18 WILLIAM TELL. act i. GER. He envies thee ; for thou dost happy live A freeman on thy own inheritance, While he hath none. This house, as thine own fief, Thou hold est of the Emperor and realm : That thou canst show, as clearly as a prince Can show a title to his princedom. Above thee, knowest thou no Suzerain, Unless it be the first in Christendom. A younger brother of his house is Gessler, With nought to call his own except his mantle ; Therefore he views each honest man"'s success With evil eye and venomous ill-will. Thy downfall hath he sworn this many a day. As yet thou art uninjured. Wilt thou wait Until he gratify his wicked pleasure ? A wise man takes precaution. STAUF. What can I ? GER {comes near). Attend to my advice. Thou knowest well That here in Switz all honest men complain Of Gessler^s avarice and cruelty ; And do not doubt that yonder in the land Of Underwald and Uri they are tired Of their oppression and a heavy yoke. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 19 As he acts here, so governs impudently The Landenberger yonder o'er the lake. There comes no fishing-boat towards our shore But publishes some recent injury Or usurpation of the Governor's. Good were it, therefore, that amongst you some, Who mean sincerely, went to counsel means Whereby we may divest us of oppression; And sure am I, that God will never fail To look propitious on a righteous cause ! Hast thou, in Uri, no acquaintance — say — To whom thou mayest freely ope thy heart ? Stauf. I know abundance of true-hearted men, And many well reputed nobles there, Who are my intimate and trusted friends. (rises up) Wife, what a storm of fearful thoughts thou 'st waked Within this tranquil breast ! My inmost heart Hast thou laid open to the light of day ; And that which I 'd forbid me e'en to think, Thy tongue pronouncest boldly and with ease. Hast thou reflected well on thy advice ? Wild discord, and the clang of hostile arms, Invitest thou to this our peaceful dale. How may we risk, weak shepherds as we are, c 2 20 WILLIAM TELL. act i. To war against the masters of the world ? That were the very pretext which they want. Ere they let loose, on this unhappy land, The savage hordes of military power, Thereby to rule us with a victor's right, And, under such a pretext, overturn The charters of our ancient liberty. GER. You, too, are men, know how to wield an axe, And God — oh, doubt it not, — will help the brave. STAUF. War is a raging, heart-appalhng monster, That slays alike the shepherd and the sheep. GER. Man must endure the ill that Heaven sends, But earthly wrong no noble heart may brook. STAUF. This house delights thee that we 've newly built:— • ^^' The monster war may burn it to the ground. ] GER. Thought I my heart were set on worldly goodi, With my own hand I 'd cast a firebrand there. STAUF. Thou trustest to humanity : — but war Will not e'en spare the infant in the cradle. GER. In Heaven above hath innocence a friend : Look forwards, Werner, not behind thee, man ! STAUF. Suppose we all fell, fighting valiantly In battle ; what might be thy destiny ? £c. II. WILLIAM TELL. 21 GER. A last resource lies open to the weak, — One spring from yonder bridge and I am free. STAUF. {Clasping her in his arms.) Who presses to his bosom heart like thine, He can for hearth and home fight cheerfully, And never fear the armed might of kings ! To Uri will I go upon the instant : There lives my old acquaintance, Walter Furst ; There also shall I find the noble lord Of Attinghausen. Though of high descent, He loves the people, and respects old customs. With both of these will I advise the means To best defend us 'gainst our country's foes. Farewell ! — and while I 'm absent, regulate. With prudent management, thy housewifery. To pilgrims travelling to holy shrines. To pious monks collecting for their cloisters. Give freely, and dismiss them well regaled. The house of Stauffacher is not concealed ; Close by the open public road it stands, A hospitable roof for every traveller, That wends him on his way. [As they go into the hack ground enter Tell and Baumgarten in the front part of the stage. 22 WILLIAM TELL. act i. TELL, {to BAUMGARTEN.) No farther now You stand in need of me. In yonder house Dwells StaufFacher, the friend of the afflicted. But see, he 's there himself ! Come, follow me ! [ Thei/ go off towards him, and the scene closes. SCENE III. An open place in Altdorf. On an eminence in the hack-ground a fortress is building, which has been proceeded with sufficiently to show its boundaries. The backward part of it is finished. Before the front stands a scaffold with ujorkmen. On the highest part of the roof is a slater. All are in motion and at work. Officer of the Serfs. Master Stone-cutter, Workmen, and Helpers. Off. {Driving the workmen with his staff.) Rest not too long ; quick ! bring the building stone, - " And lime to make the mortar ; so that when The Governor arrives he see the work Advanced ! It creeps along like any snail. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 23 FIRST WORK. 'Tis hard that we must carry e'en the stones To build the fortress, that 's to be our jail. OFF. What mutter ye ? 'Tis an ignoble people, And fit for nothing l^ut to milk their cows, And saunter lazily among the mountains. AN OLD MAN. (rests himself.) I can no more. OFF. {shaking him.) Quick, old one, to the work ! FIRST WORK. Have you no pity, that you thu« compel A greybeard, who can scarcely creep along. To hard serf-labour ? WORKMEN. Oh ! It cries to Heav'n ! OFF. Look to yourselves ! I do but what 's my duty. SEC. WORK. How will the place be called that we build there ? OFF. Dungeon of Uri — that shall be its name-^ And all of you shall bend beneath its yoke. WORKMEN, (laughing.) * Dungeon of Uri ! OFF. What's to laugh at there ? * In the original thus — , Zwing Uri ! Frohnvogt. Nun was gibt*s dabei zu lachen ? ZwEiTER Gesell. Mit diesem Hauslein wollt ihr Uri zwingen ? *• 24 WILLIAM TEIJi. ACT I. SEC. WORK. In that small building will you dun- geon Uri ? FIRST WORK. Let's see. — How much on such a moldwarp'*s pile Must we heap up, until it may became Great — as the smallest mountain in all Uri ? [officer goes into the back ground. STONECUTTER. Deep in the water of the lake I'll throw The tools I use in this accursed building. Enter Tell and Stauffacher. STAUF. Oh ! that IM never liv'd to look on that! tell. We may not well stand here. Let's farther on. STAUF. Am I in Uri— in the land of Freedom ? STONECUTTER. Alas ! good Sir, when once you've seen the pit * * In almost all the old German castles is a high tower, gene- rally the most ancient part of the building. In this tower is a small door, about twenty feet from the ground, accessible by a ladder or gallery. The door leads into a chamber, in the centre of which is a trap-door, opening into a subterranean pit about thirty or forty feet deep. Right over this trap-door there was a ring with a rope and pulley fastened to it, which were the means sc. in. WILLIAM TELL. 25 * Beneath the tower He who lodges there Will surely never hear the cock crow more. STAUF. Good God ! STONECUTTER. Behold these ramparts and these buttresses, That seem constructed for eternity. TELL. What hands build up, can hands pull down again. [pointing to the mountains. There God hath built for us a house of freedom. [A drum is heard. Enter a crowds with a hat on a pole, followed hy a Crier. Women and children throng tumultuously after him. ■ FIRST WORK. Why comes the drum ? Attend ! STONECUTTER. And why this troop, As li-om a carnival ? What means the hat ? CRIER. Hear ! in the Emperor's name. WORKMEN. Keep silence ! hear ! CRIER. Ye men of Uri, look upon this hat ! On a high pillar in the midst of Aldorf, And in the highest place will it be raised — Such is the will and meaning of the Governor : of letting prisoners into the pit beneath. In the- small castle of Pfaltz, which stands in the middle of the Rhine, opposite Caub, there is yet to be seen a tower and machine of this kind. 26 • WILLIAM TELL. ACT And further, that to this same hat ye show The self-same honour as is due to him. "With bended knee, and with uncover''d head, Shall ye do reverence. The Emperor Will thus discover those who are obedient. And whosoe'^er neglecteth this command. His goods and body forfeits to the crown. [Exit the crowd laughing^ and following the drum. FIRST WORK. What new unheard-of prank's the Governor Resolv'd on now ? We reverence a hat ! Say — hath man ever heard the like of this ! STONECUTTER. What ! shall we bend our knees before a hat ! Drives he his game in earnest, worthy people ? FIRST WORK. Were it the Emp'ror's crown we might. But 'tis The hat of Austria — I saw it hang Above the throne whereon they give the fiefs. STONECUTTER. The hat of Austria I Take care ! 'tis sure A trap to snare us into Austria's hands. WORKMEN. No honest man will yield to such dis- grace. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 27 STONECUTTER. Come, let us make agreement with our comrades, To act with one accord in this affair. [They retire into the back ground. TELL, (to STAUFFACHER.) You Ve heard the order. Fare ye well, friend Werner ! STAUF. Where would you go? Haste not away so soon. Tell. They '11 want me at my house. Once more — farewell ! Stauf. My heart is full—I'd speak with you awhile. Tell. A heavy heart is not made light by words. Stauf. But words perhaps may lead us on to deeds. Tell. All we can do is to be still and patient. Stauf. Can man bear that which is intolerable ? Tell. The rashest rulers have the shortest reigns. When from its cavern rushes forth the Fohn, We put the fire out, — and the vessels seek The haven quickly, and the mighty spirit, Harmless and trackless, travels o'er the earth. Let every man live quietly at home. The peaceful man may easily find peace. Stauf. What mean you ? \28 WILLIAM TELL. act i. Tell. Serpents sting not unprovoked, And even they, at last, are wearied out,* When all around reposes tranquilly. Stauf. Much may be done if we but stand toge- ther. Tell. When ships are wreck'd, each man best helps himself. Stauf. So coldly leave you then the common cause ? Tell. No man may reckon surely on another. Stauf. United e'en the weak are rendered strong. Tell. The strong are ever strongest when alone ! Stauf. Your country then may not depend on you, If driven desperate it fly to arms ? Tell. (Gives him his hand.) Shall I, who, at the peril of my life. Have fetched a fallen lamb from out the deptli Of an abyss, desert my friends at need ? Whate'*er you do, omit me in your counsel ; I've not the art to scrutinise and choose. But when you want me for a deed determined, Call then on Tell. — You shall not call in vain. — [Exeunt at different sides. * In the original-^ " Sie werden endlich doch von selbst ermuden." sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. , 29 [A sudden commotion takes place around the scaffolds. Stone-cutter. (Hastens towards them.) How now ? First Workman. {Comes forward crying out.) The Slater 's fallen from the roof ! Enter Bertha von Bruneck with people folloioing her. Ber. He'*s dashed to pieces ? Run and save him — help, If help be possible — here''s gold — Oh ! save him ! — [ Throws her ornaments among the people. Stone-cutter. With gold ! You think that all is saleable For gold; — and when youVe torn apart for aye Father from children, husbands from their wives, And filFd the world with lamentation, — then You think to make all well again with gold ! Go — we were happy men till you came here, ''Tis you that drive us onward to despair. Ber. {To the officer who returns.) Lives he? [Officer makes a sign in the tiegative. Unlucky Castle — built with curses, A curse will dwell for ever on thy walls. [Exeunt. 30 WILLIAM TELL. SCENE IV. Walter Fursfs house. Walter Furst and Arnold yon Melchtb^al approaching him from the opposite side. MEL. Good Walter Fiirst — WALTER FURST. If we should be surprised ! Stay where you are. On every side are spies. MEL. You bring me nought from Underwald ? No word How fares my father ? — I can bear no more To lie here idle as a prisoner. What have I done so reprehensible, That like a murdVer, I must hide my head ? The finger of an insolent young knave Who, at the Governor's command, my oxen — (Ay my best yoke,) would drive away before My very eyes, I' ve broken with my staff ! WALTER FURST. 'Twas all too rash. The boy was Landenberg's, Commission''d by your magistrate. You look For penal visitation, and you must (However hard) be silently resigned. sc. IV. WILLIAM TELL. 31 MEL. And from shame-harden*'d men shall I endure A wanton taunt like this — " If boors would eat, Let them the ploughshare draw themselves for bread V It cut me to the soul, when, as the boy Unharnessed the oxen from the plough. Deep lowed the comely beasts and tossed their horns, As if they had a feeling of the wrong. ^Twas then, by just resentment overcome, No longer master of myself, I struck the envoy. WALTER FURST. Oh scarce can toe our swelling hearts restrain. How shall rash youth then moderate its ardour. MEL. I grieve but for my father ; much he needs A son's attention, and his son is far. He 's hateful to the tyrant ; for throughout For right and freedom hath he frankly striven. They '11 persecute the poor old man for that, While no one 's near to shelter him from hardship. Come on 't what will I must go over to him. WALTER FURST. Yet stay and bear yourself with patience, till Advices come to us from Underwald. I hear a knocking— .go— Behke 'tis one Sent by the Governor. Go in ! You 're not 32 WILLIAM TELL. act i. More safe in Uri from the Landenberger, For tyrants never fail to aid each other. MEL. They teach us then what we should do. WALTER FIJRST. Go in ! Again I "11 call you when 'tis safer here. [melchthal goes in. Unlucky youth ! I dare not hint to him The ill my heart forebodes. Who knocks ? — The door ne'er moves but I expect mischance, Distrust and treason lurk in every corner. Into our houses innermost recess The spies of power penetrate, and soon May we need locks and bolts upon our doors.* [He opens the door and starts back surprised, as Werner Stauffacher enters. What see I ? You, friend Werner ! Now, by Heav'n, A dear and worthy guest. No better man Has yet o'er-stept my threshold. Welcome ! thrice welcome, underneath my roof ! What leads you forth ? What seek you here in Uri ? * The simple manners of the ancient Swiss rendered theft very uncommon. Bolts on a house-door were therefore almost useless, and were considered as marking an inhospitable disposition in the owner. sc. IV. WILLIAM TELL. 33 STAUF. (giving his hand.) Old times, and Switzer- land as 'twas of old. WALTER FUR ST. You bring them with you. See how glad I am. A sight of you expands and warms the heart. Sit down, friend Werner, Tell me how you left Dame Gertrude, your inestimable hostess. Wise Iberg's fair and highly-minded daughter. — All travellers from Germany, who take Their route to Italy by Meinrad's Cell, Extol your hospitable house. But say, Came you directly from Fluellen here ? And stayed you nowhere else, to look about you, Ere you set foot across my door-stone ? speak ! STAUF. I stopped, indeed, to see a strange new work That 's now in progress, and it nothing pleased me. WALTER FURST. You read its purpose doubtless at a glance ? STAUF. A thing like that has never been in Uri. Since human memory no gaol was there, And fast was no abode except the grave. WALTER FURST. The grave ! The word fits well — it is the grave Of freedom! D 34 WILLIAM TELL. act i. STAUF. Walter Fiirst, I'll not detain you: No idle love of gossip led me forth, But cares that heavily weigh down my soul. Oppression have I left at home, and here I find oppression too ! Our burthen 's more than mortal man can bear ; While to its pressure none can see a term. Free was the Switzer immemorially. And wont are we to be respected well. The land hath ne'er experienced such a time As long as herd hath trodden on our mountains ! WALTER FURST. Ay ! 'Tis without example how they drive it ! And e'en our noble lord of Attinghausen, Who 's had experience of the olden time, Thinks that no longer we are bound to bear it. STAUF. In Underwald, away there, wrong hath been. And bloody retribution. Wolfenshiesen, Th' Imperial officer at Rossberg, long'd To feast himself upon forbidden fruit. And sought, with shameful purpose, to abuse Baumgarten's wife — a resident at Alzell — For which he fell beneath her husband's axe. sc. IV. WILLIAM TELL. 35 WALTER FURST. God's punishments are ever justly dealt ! Baumgarten, said you, — he 's a worthy man — Surely he 's rescued, and in safe concealment. STAUF. Your daughter's husband put him o''er the lake. And I, at Steinen, keep him well conceaFd. — But still more horrid news hath this same maa Related to me, which fell out at Sarnen, — Each honest heart will bleed to hear it told. WALTER FURST. {attentively.) Say on, what is't? STAUF. In Melchthal, as it is Approached by Kerns, there dwells an honest man Called Henry Von der Halden, and his voice Passes for much among the commonwealth. WALTER FURST. Who knows him not ? What of him ? make an end ! STAUF. The Landenberger, for a slight offence. Amerced his son, and seized on at the plough, His choicest yoke of oxen. Thereupon The young man struck the officer, and fled. WALTER FRUST. Ay ! but the father ? say how stands it there ? STAUF. The father ? He was ask'd about his son, D 2 36 " WILLIAM TELL. act I. And orderM to produce him on the spot. And then the old man swore, — and truly too, — That he knew nothing of the fugitive. On that, the Governor call'd in his rackmaster. — WALTER FURST. (springs up, and offers to lead Stauffacher to the other side.) Silence ! no more ! STAUF. (in a loud tone of voice.) " Thy son hath 'scaped,"" said he, " But thou art mine." With that they threw him down, And thrust a pointed iron in his eyes. WALTER FURST. Merciful heaven ! MEL. (rushes out.) Said you in his eyes ? STAUF. (astonished) to W. FURST. What youth is this ? MEL. (grasps him with convulsive violence.) Speak ! was it in his eyes ? WALTER FURST. Unfortunate old man ! , STAUF. But who is this ? [ As Walter Furst makes him a sign . His son ! all-judging God ! MEL. And I must be From thence ! In both eyes did you say ? sc. IV. WILLIAM TELL. 37 WALTER FURST. Restrain yourself, and bear it like a man ! * MEL. For my offence ! for my transgression too ! Blind ? Is he really blind ? entirely sightless ? STAUF. I Ve said. The well of vision is exhausted ! He never more wiU look upon the sun. WALTER FURST. Spare his affliction. MEL. Never — never more ! [He places his hand before his ei/es, and pauses for a few moments; then turning to the one and the other, speaks in a low tone, suffocated hy tears. Oh ! what a noble, heavenly gift is light ! By light,-^that blessed essence! — all things live. The very plants turn joyful towards the light : — Yet he, though sensible, must dwell in night, Utterly dark. For him, revives no more The meadow's glowing green, the flower's enamel, — The redd'ning Firnf he never more will see. To die, were nothing ! but to live in darkness, That were indeed an evil. Why so piteously Look you on me .? I have a pair of eyes — * Schiller appears here to have imitated the passage in Macbeth, where Macduff receives the news of the murder of his family, f See note f at page 4. 38 WILltAM TELL. act i. Yet can I give my blinded father none. No, not one glimmer of that sea of light Which enters mine with blinding brilliance. STAUF. Alas ! I e''en must aggravate your grief. Instead of healing it. He needs yet more. The Governor hath robbed him of his all : Naught hath been left him, save indeed a staff, To guide him, stript and blind, from door to door. MEL. Naught but a staff the blind old man to guide ! Plundered of all ! e'en of tiie'\i|lit of day ! The poorest, universal good ! Now speak No more to me of staying and concealment ! Oh, what a heartless miscreant am I, That thought upon my own security And not on thine I And thy beloved head Lay as a pawn within the tyrant's grasp ! Faint-hearted caution, fare thee well ! Of naught But bloody retribution will I think ! Hence will I, nobody shall hold me back. I '11 ask the tyrant for my father's eye-sight ! I '11 find him, even through the very midst Of all his horsemen ! Life I value not, - - -f sc. IV. WILLIAM TELL. 39 If I my hot and boundless grief may cool In his accursed life-blood. [He is going. WALTER FURST. Stay ! oh, stay ! What can you do 'gainst him ? He sits at Sarnen, High in his lordly castle, and secure Within its towers, may mock your powerless rage. MEL. And sat he even in the icy halls Of Schreckhorns, or yet higher, where the Virgin Sits veiled in everlasting snow — I 'd make My way to him. Give me but twenty youths Who think like me, 1 11 break into his fastness. And if none follow me — and if you all. Afraid to lose your houses and your hearths, Shall bow you to the tyrant's yoke, the hinds Together will I summon in the mountains ; And there, beneath the boundless vault of Heaven, Where yet the mind is pure and hearts are sound. Will I proclaim this monstrous cruelty ! STAUF. It 's reach'd its summit, even would we wait Until the very worst. MEL. What worst remains For us to hold in dread, when human eyes Are no more safe within their sockets ? 40 WILLIAM TELL. act i. Are we defenceless ? Wherefore have we learnt To draw the stubborn cross-bow, and to wield The heavy battle-axe ? Each being finds A weapon in the anguish of despair. Thus bears him the exhausted stag at Ijay, And shows his deadly antlers to the pack : The chamois butts the hunter down the chasm ; The ox, himself man'*s patient comrade. Who bends his powerful neck beneath the yoke — Provoke him, up he springs, whets his strong horn. And tosses his tormentor to the clouds ! WALTER FURST. If the three Cantons thought as think we three. Then might our efforts probably avail. STAUF. If Uri call, and Underwald assist, Switz will remember well our ancient Bond.* MEL. In Underwald my friends are numerous. And each will willingly risk life and limb * This Bond, or Alliance of the Three Cantons, was of very ancient origin. From time to time^ especially when the liberty of the people was endangered, they met and renewed it. A remark- able instance of this occurred in the end of the 13th century, when Albert of Austria became Emperor, and when, possibly for the first time, the Bond was reduced into writing. The reader is referred to Note B. at the end of the play, where he will find a sc. IV. WILLIAM TELL. 41 To back or screen the other. Venerable And most experienced fathers of these Cantons ! I stand between you, a mere boy, whose voice Is doom'd to silence in our country's Diet : « Scorn not my counsel, nor my speech, for thought That I am young and lack experience. No wanton youthful blood excites me, but The smarting impulse of a grief so deep, That it would force the very rocks to pity. — Fathers are you, and chiefs of families. And needs must wish for virtuous sons to pay A filial homage to your blanched locks. And guard your eyesight with a pious care. Because as yet you have not suffered wrong In limb or goods, — ^because as yet your eyes Revolve within their sockets fresh and clear — Think not that therefore you are free from peril : O'er your heads also hangs the tyrant''s sword ! You \e made the land averse to Austria's views. translation of the Bond in question. As each individual who was party to this contract was sworn to maintain it, he was called Eid-genoss; that is to say. Sworn-confederate, or, more strictly speaking. Sworn-companion. This wiU explain the frequent re- petition of that title in the Second Scene of the ensuing Act. 42 WILLIAM TELL. act i. That, and no other was my father's crime. You Ve shared his guilt — and may his punishment. STAUF.^o w. FURST. Determine you: I am pre- pared to follow. WALTER FURST. But let US first hear what the noble lords Of Sillenen and Attinghausen counsel. Their names, methinks, will raise us store of friends. MEL. Who bears a name in all the forest moun- tains Worthy of honour more than you and yours "^ The people set high price upon such names. They ring well in the land. Your father**s virtue was a rich inheritance, Which youVe augmented richly. — What's the need Of noblemen "^ Let us achieve the task ! Were we unaided in the land, I think We should not be without the means of shelter. STAUF. The nobles' peril equals not our own. The flood that's foaming in the lowly plain, Hath not reach'd yet the elevated ground. But their assistance cannot fail to come. When once they see their countrymen in arms. • sc. IV. WILLIAM TELL. 48 WALTER FURST. Were there Hwixt us and Austria an umpire, Their law and justice might decide our cause ; But our oppressor is our Emperor ; Our highest judge. 'Tis God must help us then, And through our arms. Go you and seek allies In Switz. In Uri I will raise our friends. — But who may we dispatch to Underwald ? MEL. Send me — send me ! Whom interests it more ? WALTER FURST. I'll not allow it; you Ve my guest, and I Must warrant for your safety. MEL. Let me go. I know each by-way and each crag-path well ; E'en friends enough I '11 find who, from the foe Will hide, and willingly vouchsafe me shelter. STAUF. Let him go over, and may God protect him ! There are no traitors ; for the tyrants there Are so abhorr'd that they can find no tools. There also will the Alzeller arouse The land, and levy us companions. MEL. But how shall we communicate our news, And yet pass unsuspected by the Tyrants ? 44 WILLIAM TELL. act i. STAUF. At Brunnen we may hold our conference, Or at the quay where land the merchant-ships. WALTER FURST. We dare not carry on the work so openly. — Hear my proposal. Left o' the lake, as o''er The Myttenstein one journeys on to Brunnen, Secluded in a wood, there lies a field. Called Rootli by the herdsmen of the dales, Because the wood has been uprooted there. There is it that our land-mark and your own (to Mekhthal) Border together. Quickly in a skiff, {to Stauffacher) May you from Switz pass over to the spot. By secret paths, and in the night may we Assemble there and quietly consult. Thither let each bring with him ten tried men. Whose hearts beat all accordantly with ours. So may we commune of the commonwealth And, God with us, form quickly our resolves. STAUF. So be it. Give me now your true right hand. And give me also yours. And thus, as we Three men reciprocally clasp together Our hands in perfect truth and honesty. sc. IV. William tell. 45 So shall our Cantons three together stand Defensive and offensive — dead and living ! w. FURST and melchthal. Dead and living ! [ They hold their hands clasped together for some moments ifi silence. MEL. Oh ! my blind old father ! Thou canst the day of freedom no more see, But thou shalt hear of 't. When from Alp to Alp The flaming beacon lifts itself on high, And the strong castles of our tyrants fall, Then shall the Switzer to thy cot repair. Pour the glad tidings in thine ear, and bright Shall freedom^s sun arise upon thy night ! [Exeunt. WILLIAM TELL. act ii. ACT II. SCENE I. The family mansion of the Baron of Attinghausen. A gothic chamber hung round luith escutcheons and helmets. The Baron, a grey-headed octogenarian of a tall and noble stature, is clad in a furred doub- let, and leans on a staff tipped with chamois-horn. KUONI and six Hinds stands around him with rakes and scythes. Ulrick von Rudenz enters in the costume of a Knight. RUD. Uncle, I'm here? Say what maybe your will? ATTING. Permit, that first, according to the custom, The ancient custom of our ancient house, I share the morning-cup with these my hinds.* [Drinks out of a cup, which then goes round among the rest. * In the original " Knechten/* which is commonly translated by the word serfs. But to have employed it in the present in- stance would have conveyed a false impression ; because the Knecht of Switzerland was not a slave like the " Knecht," or serf, of Austria, and other countries. His condition was more like the old English Soc-man. SCI. WILLIAM TELL. 47 Once I was with them both in field and forest, Directing with mine eyes their energy, As when my banner led them in the fight. I now no more can act as their inspector, And if the warm sun come to me no more, I can no more go seek it in the mountains. Around a narrow circle, ever narrowing, I pass, until it close around its centre Where life worn out shall stop ! I 'm now but as My shadow ! and shall soon be but my name ! KuoNi (offers RuDENZ the cup). I bring it f ye, young master. (\ [as RuDENZ hesitates to take it. Drink it off! One cup, one heart's the word among us here !* ATT IN G. Go, go, my children ; when the evening work Is done, we ""11 talk about our country"'s cause. [Exeunt KuoNi and Hinds. Attinghausen and Rudenz. ATTING. I see thee girded and caparison'd, * Thou 'It to the Herrenburg at Altdorf .? * The German of the original, which offers great difficulty in the way of a literal translation, is as follows : — " Trinket frisch ! Es geht Aus Einem Becher und aus Einem Herzen." 48 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. RUD. Ay, uncle ! and I must no longer wait. ATTING. (seats himself.) Art thou so hasty ? How ? Is then thy time Of youth so shortly measured out that thou Canst spare none of it to thy aged uncle ? RUD. I see my presence here is undesired. I am but as a stranger in this house. ATTING. Ay ! pity that thou art ! Pity that this hearth Should strange to thee become. Oh, Ulric ! Ulric ! I scarcely know thee more ! In silk thou shinest, Wear'st haughtily the peacock^s plume in public,* And wrap'st the purple mantle round thy shoulders, Looking with scorn upon our peasantry, And shaming thee at their familiar greeting ! RUD. The honour due to them I freely give ; The right that they "'d assume, I may not yield. ATTING. Under the heavy anger of the King Lies all the land, and every honest heart Grieves, on account of the tyrannic power * The Austrian knights wore a plume of peacock's feathers in their helmets. After the overthrow of their country's dominion in Switzerland, it was made highly penal to wear the peacock's feather at any public assembly there. SCI. WILLIAM TELL. 49 Which we endure. Thou only art unmoved Amid the universal suffering. A traitor to thy nation dost thou stand Among the party of that nation's enemies, — Hunt after trivial pleasures, e'en as 'twere In mockery of our calamity ; And court the smile of princes, all the while Thy country bleeds beneath their cruel scourge ! RUD. The land is sore oppressed ! And, wherefore, uncle ? By whom has it been plunged in this distress ? 'Twould cost us but a single easy word To free it in a moment from oppression ; And thereby win a gracious Emperor. Woe be to those who blind the nation's eyes That it may strive against a real good ; Who for their proper profit would impede The Waldstetten to swear allegiance To Austria like all the land around. It fits their humour well to range themselves Among the nobles on the Herrenbank,* And choose the Emperor for lord ; because — They wish no lord at all. * The bench reserved for the nobility. 50 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. ATT IN G. Must I hear this ! and hear it too from thee ! RUD. You Ve asked me for it ; — let me make an end. What sort of part is 't, uncle, you yourself Play here ? Have you no higher pride than here To be Landamman,* or a Banner-herr, And exercise dominion o'er these hinds ? How ! is it not a choice more commendable To render homage to a royal master And consort with his brilliant retinue, Than to be peer amongst your proper vassals, And sit in judgment 'mid a group of clowns ! ATTING. Ah, Ulric ! Ulric ! I can recognize The voice of the seducer. He hath seized upon Thy open ear, and poisoned thy heart. RUD. Ay, I conceal it not ; it grieved my soul To hear these strangers term us scoffingly The Feasant- gentles. -f I can not endure, * The Landamman was an ofl&cer chosen by the Swiss Gemeine, or Diet, to preside over them. He M^as called Heerman in the old German, and " Arimannus" and " Minister Vallis" in the Latin of the middle ages, and appears to have been similar to the Het- man amongst the Cossacks — See Miiller's History, book, i. cap. 15, no. 30. The word seems to be a corruption of Land-ampt- man. As to the Banner-herr, he was the officer appointed to take charge of the banner of the State, and those conquered in battle. f "Den Baurenadel schelten." Such was the epithet insult- ingly applied to the Swiss gentry by the Austrians.— Vide Miiller. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 51 While all the young nobility around Are gathering honour under Hapsburg''s banner, To lie a sluggard here on my inheritance ; And in a course of common daily occupation, To lose the spring of life. In other parts Are deeds achieved. A world of fair renown Is moving brilliantly beyond these mountains ! Forme — both helm and shield hang rusting in the hall! The warlike trumpet's valour-stirring tone — The Herald's call, inviting to the lists — Will never find their way to these our dales. Nought have we here, except the cowherd's horn, And wether-bell monotonously tinkling. ATTING. Infatuated ! Gulled by idle glare. Dost thou despise the land that gave thee birth ? And turn a face of shame towards the customs, The good old customs of thy forefathers ? With burning tears wilt thou hereafter long To be at home on thy paternal hills ; And this same cowhorn's melody, which now Thou scorn'st with such imperious disgust, Thou ""It cling to 't with a painful, eagerness. Whene'er it meets thy ear in foreign climes ! / Strong is the impulse of our native land ! / E 2 54 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. Impawn themselves, and so out-realm their rights.* — No, uncle, 'tis a wholesome, wise precaution, • In this unhappy time of party strife. To make alliance with a mighty chief. Th"* Imperial crown **s transferred from race to race,-)* And hath no memory for faithful service ; But to do such unto a mighty master, Whose power 's inheritable. Were to sow Seed for futurity. ATTING. Art thou so wise ? Wilt thou see clearer than thy noble ancestors, Who strove with land and blood and heroism For liberty's inestimable jewel ? Ship thyself over to Lucerne, and there Demand how Austria's rule overloads the Cantons ; Her jninions come to number o'er our sheep, Our cattle, and partition out our Alps, To hinder us in our free woods to strike * This was very often done. In peril of war, or for the pur- pose of borrowing money, an imperial city might subject or mort- gage itself to the Emperor. But by so doing it lost itfe freedom, became his private seigniory, and was considered as put out of the realm. f This refers to the Imperial crown not being hereditary, but conferred by election on one of the Counts of the Empire. sc. I. WlLLIi^M TELL. 55 A heron* down — or kill a stag ; to set Their toll-bar upon every gate and bridge, To purchase land with our poor stinted fortunes, And spend our blood to prosecute their wars. — No ! If our blood 's to flow in the afikir, Let''s shed it for ourselves. A)h far more cheap Can we buy liberty than servitude |/ RUD. But what can we, a nation of mere herdsmen, Hope to achieve 'gainst Albert's warlike power ? ATTING. Learn to know better, these same herds- men, boy, — I know them, — have commanded them in battle. And I have seen them fight before Favenz. 'Tis they at last must rid us of the yoke Which we 're determined to endure no more. Oh learn to feel from what a race thou 'rt sprung ! Throw not for idle glare and spangled tawdry The precious pearl of thine own worth away. * In the original — ''Den Hochflug, und das Hochgewilde bannen In unsern freien Waldern." Hochflug and Hochgewilde are terms of chase, for which there are none exactly equivalent in our language. The former means the larger species of birds of chase, and the latter the larger kinds of four-footed game, such as the great stag, the wild boar, &c. &c. 66 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. To call thyself the chief of a free people, Devoted to thee out of heart-felt love — Ready to stand by, fight, and die for thee : Be this thy boast — be this thy noblest praise. Knit fast the holy ties which nature breeds, ^ Cling to thy native land as to a thing Most dear, and hold it firmly to thy heart. Here is thy power firm and strongly rooted. There^ in the foreign world, thou It stand alone, A trembling reed beat down by every storm. >^ Oh come ! 'tis long since thou hast been with us. Stay with us but one day ; — ^but this one day — Go not to Altdorf ! Hear 'st thou ? Not to-day. For this one day bestow it on thy friends, [takes his hand. RUD. I gave my word — O let me — I am bound — ATTING. {lets fall the hand of Rudenz and says earnestly,) Bound, art thou ? — Ay, unfortunate ! — thou art. But not with tie of word or sacrament. Thy bonds are those which love twines round the heart. [Rudenz turns himself away. Go, hide thee if thou wilt. Bertha of Bruneck, She it is attracts thee to the Herrenburg : By her, thou 'rt fettered to the Emptor's service. sc. I. AVILLIAM TELL, 57 And would 'st thou win the noble knightly maid By thy apostacy ? Be undeceived. They show her to thee merely as a bait ; But think not she''s intended as the bride Of such a simple soul as thou ! RUD. I Ve heard Enough. Farewell ! [exit. ATTlNG. Rash youth, remain ! He 's gone ! I can nor hold him back nor rescue him — So, Wolfenschiessen from his province, then, Is fallen. Others soon will follow him. A foreign magic tears our youth away, Spite of their efforts, from their native mountains. Oh, fatal moment ! when the foreigner Came to our tranquil happy vales to change The habitudes of simple innocence ! New fashions press in forcibly upon us. While old respected ones give place and die. New times come on — and men''s ideas change ! What do I here.? All, all are in the grave With whom I lived and acted ! / My time already is beneath the earth. Well is 't for him no more obliged to live Among the changes of the coming time ! [ Exit. 58 WILLIAM TELL. SCENE II. A meadow surrounded hy high cliffs and forests. On the cliffs are seen steps, rails, and ladders hy which they are descended. In the back-ground is tJie lake, over which, in the beginning of the scene, a lunar rain- bow is seen. High mountains, overtopped by still higher icebergs, close the prospect. It is night, but the lake and the white glaciers glisten in the moon- light. Enter Melchthal, Baumgarten, Winkebried, Meier von Sarnen, Burkhardt am Buhel, Arnold von Sew^a, Klaus von der Flue, and four others, all armed. MEL. (as he enters.) The Berg- way opens — quick — on after me ! I know this rock and that small cross upon 't : We 're at the mark. Here is the Rootli. [ They approach with wind lanterns. WINK. Hark ! SEWA. All's clear ! sc. n. WILLIAM TELL. 59 MEIR. No countryman 's yet there 'Tis w^ Are first upon the spot. We Under walders. MEL. How far is ^t in the night ? BAUM. The fire watch From Selisberg hath called the second hour. \^Sounds of a bell are heard in the distance. MEIR. Still! Hark! B u E L. The forest-chapePs matin-chime Rings hither clearly o^er the land of Switz. FLUE, The air is pure and bears the sound afar ! MEL. Go some and kindle up a brushwood fire, So that it burn up clearly when they come. YExeunt two of them. SEW A. 'Tis a fair moonlight night. The lake Lies smooth and tranquil as a mirror there ! BUHEL. They 11 have an easy course. WINK, {pointing towards the lake.) Ha ! see ! Look there ! Look ! See you nought ? Meir. What there ? Ay, truly, A rainbow in the middle of the night ! MEL. It is the moonlight that produced it. FLUE. That is an omen strange and marvellous ; Full many live who never saw the like ! SEWA. 'Tis doubled, see ! surrounded by a paler ! 58 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. SCENE II. A meadow surrounded hy high cliffs and forests. On the cliffs are seen steps, rails, and ladders by ivhich they are descended. In the back-ground is the lake, over which, in the beginning of the scene, a lunar rain- bow is seen. High mountains, overtopped by still higher icebergs, close the prospect. It is night, but the lake and the white glaciers glisten in the moon- light. Enter Melchthal, Baumgarten, Winkebried, Meier von Sarnen, Burkhardt am Buhel, Arnold von Sev^a, Klaus von der Flue, and four others, all armed. MEL, (as he enters.) The Berg-way opens — quick — on after me ! I know this rock and that small cross upon 't : We 're at the mark. Here is the Rootli. [ They approach with wind lanterns. WINK. Hark! SEW A. All's clear ! sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 59 MEIR. No countryman 's yet there 'Tis we Are first upon the spot. We Under walders. MEL. How far is 't in the night ? BAUM. The fire watch From Selisberg hath called the second hour. [Sounds of a hell are heard in the distance. MEIR. Still! Hark! BUEL. The forest-chapel's matin-chime Rings hither clearly o'er the land of Switz. FLUE. The air is pure and bears the sound afar ! MEL. Go some and kindle up a brushwood fire, So that it burn up clearly when they come. \^Exeunt two of them. SEW A. 'Tis a fair moonlight night. The lake Lies smooth and tranquil as a mirror there ! BUHEL. They '11 have an easy course. WINK, {pointing towards the lake.) Ha ! see ! Look there ! Look ! See you nought ? Meir. What there.? Ay, truly, A rainbow in the middle of the night ! MEL. It is the moonlight that produced it. FLUE. That is an omen strange and marvellous ; Full many live who never saw the like ! SEWA. 'Tis doubled, see ! surrounded by a paler ! 60 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. BAUM. A shallop there rows quietly this way. MEL. That then must be the boat of StaufFacher : The honest heart hath not detained us long. [goes towards the shore ivith Baumgarten. MEIER. The men of Uri will be latest here. BUHEL. They must go further round among the mountains, That they may ""scape the Governor*'s intelligence. [During this colloquy two oj the party present light afire in the middle of the place. ^ ^ MEL. {from the shore.) Who's there.? Quick, give the word ! STAUF. (approaching.) Our country's friends. [All go towards the back- ground to meet those who arrive. Out of the boat come Stauffacher, Itel Reding, Hans auf der Mauer, Jorg im Hope, KoNRAD HuNN, Ulrich the Smith, Jost von Weiler, and three more, ell armed. ALL {cry out.) Welcome ! MEL. Oh worthy Stauffacher ! I Ve seen Him, who, alas ! can ne'er again see me. I Ve laid my hand upon his sightless eyes ; And from his vision's ever darkened sun Have I imbibed thoughts of burning vengeance. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 6l STAUF. Speak not of vengeance. We must now converse Of threatened evil rather than of past. Say then your occupation in the land of Underwald, And what you 've levied for the common cause ? How think our countrymen ? and how yourself Contrived to 'scape the snares of treachery ? MEL. Through the terrific mountains of Surrenne, Cer wide extended desert fields of ice, Where nought is heard but the discordant croak Of vultures, I attained the common where The Hinds of Uri and of Engleberg Exchange their mutual salutations, And feed their flocks together. Quenching my thirst the while with gletcher-milk,* Which foaming gushed from out the rocky fissures — I rested me at solitary shepherd-huts, Where I was host and guest,t until I came To humanized and social habitations. * The Snow-water is so caJled by the Swiss. t The herdsmen, who pasture their flocks on the upper part of the Alps, build themselves little huts there, and reside in them till the summer is past, and the cold weather obliges them to de- scend. It was winter when Melchthal took the route which he describes, and therefore he found the shepherd huts empty. 62 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. Already was the new atrocity. Which they Ve committed, bruited ''mong the dalesmen, And sympathy was shown for my misfortune At every door I knocked at in my wandering. I found these simple souls provoked to rage By our new Ruler's deeds of violence. For as each Alp successively doth nourish Plants of like kind ; and as each spring flows on Uninterruptedly, and as the wind And clouds pursue the same unerring course, — So have old customs here, from sire to son. Gone on untouched by alteration : For they cannot endure to rashly innovate Their old established even course of life. These welcomed me with clasp of their hard hands — Down from the walls they reached their rusty swords, And from each eye beamed forth exultingly Feelings of courage ! When I mentioned names Adored by all our mountain countrymen, (Your own and Walter Fiirst's) they swore To do whatever you might think legitimate, And swore to follow you till death ! Safely protected by their hospitality, I hastened on my way from farm to farm ; sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 63 And when I came upon my native dale, Where far and wide my numerous kindred dwell — And when I found my father, robbed and blind, Lying on straw, and living on the charity Of kind and pitying friends STAUF. O God of Heaven ! MEL. I did not weep. — No ; not with powerless tears Did I expend the force of my hot anguish. Deep in my breast, as "'twere a precious treasure, I locked it, and bethought me but of deeds. I crept through every winding of the mountains : No dale was so concealed but I explored it. Until upon the glacier's ice-shod foot I stood, and found e'en there men's dwelling-places ; And wheresoever my footsteps carried me, I found an equal hate of tyranny ; For even unto the last boundary Of living nature — where the chilly earth Refuses produce — had the avarice Of our new governors committed robbery. The hearts of all these uncorrupted people Were goaded into excitation by my words. And ours are all of them with heart and voice. 64 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. STAUF. ^ Much have you done, and in short space of time, y MEL. I %'e done yet more ! The fortresses, Robsberg and Sarnen, fright our countrymen ; For under their high walls the enemy Protects himself, and depredates the land. With my own eyes I wish'd to note the thing, So went to Sarnen and beheld the Castle. STAUF. And ventured you within the tiger''s den ? MEL. I went there clothed in a pilgrim's garb, And saw our Ruler surfeit at his table. Judge how I 'm able to restrain my heart — I saw my foe — and yet I slew him not ! STAUF. Fortune, indeed, hath smiled upon your boldness. \I)urmg this dialogue some others o/'Melchthel's party cofrte forward. But say, I pray you, who may be the friends. The tried and trusted men, who follow you. Make me acquainted with them — that we all Draw near in open-hearted confidence. MElR. Where is the man within our Cantons, Sir, To whom your name and worth can be unknown .? sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 6,5 The name I bear is Meier von Sarnen. This Is Struth von Winkelried, my sister's son. STAUF. You mention to me no unheard of names ; A Winkelried was he who slew the Dragon At Wieler in a swamp, and lost his life In the encounter. WINK. 'Twas my ancestor. MEL. (points to two others.) These dwell behind the wood — are cloister-serfs From Engelberg ; but you will not, I 'm sure, Treat them with disrespect because they 're bondsmen, And not like us free landed heritors. They love their country, and are well reputed. STAUF. (to them.) Give me your hands. He's for- tunate who owes Corporeal service to no earthly master ; But honesty succeeds in every rank. HUNN. This is Herr Reding. He's our old Land- amman. MEIR. I know him well. He 's my antagonist, And litigates my claim to an inheritance. /THerr Reding, we are enemies at law ; But here, we 're friends.^ [Shakes him hy the hand. 66 WILLIAM TELL. act ii, STAUF. 'Tis bravely spoken. [A horn is heard withont. WINK. Hark ! they are coming. 'Tis the horn of Uri. [ On the right and left armed men are seen descending the cliff loith wind lanterns. MAUER. See ! Is not that God's pious servitor, The worthy priest that 's coming down there with ''em ? Like a good shepherd doth he tend his flock, Despite of toilsome road and darksome night. BAUM. The sacrist follows him with Walter FiJrst ; But yet I see not Tell among the party ! Enter Walter Furst, Rosselman the Priest, Peterman the Sacrist, KuoNi the Herd, Werni, and Jive others. There are thirty-three individuals in all on the stage, who come forward and stand round the fire. WALTER FURST. Thus even on our own inheritance, Our own paternal soil, must we steal forth. And slink together like a band of murderers. And in the night, whose sombre cloak befits ^ Such deeds alone as fear to face the sun. Must we attempt to exercise a right As clear and palpable as open day ! sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 67 MEL. Good ! Let it be. The web that 's spun at night Looks fair and perfect in the morning^s light.* ROS. Confederates ! Hear what God puts in my heart. We Ve met to represent our country's Diet, And act the part of all her population. Then let us, as we 're wont in tranquil times, Begin according to our ancient customs. What may be out of rule in our convention The peril of the time may well excuse : But God presides where right is exercised ; And under his own heaven do we stand. STAUF. Well, let 's begin according to old usage. No matter for the night — our right will be Apparent e'en amid the darkness ! MEL. Should not our number be complete, the heart Of all the nation 's with her best men here. HUNN. And if old documents be not at hand, You '11 find them registered in every heart. ROS. So be it. Form we quickly then a ring, And set the swords of power in the ground.-|- * Melchthal repeats here an old German proverb — " Was die dunkle Nacht gesponnen, Soil frei und frohlich an das Licht der Sonnen." f It was the custom at these meetings to set swords upright in the ground as emblems of authority. F 2 68 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. MAUER. Let the Landamman take his place, and let His Waibel have a station by his side.* SAC. We are the people of three Cantons ! Which — Shall give a President to our assembly ? MEIR. Let Switz contend with Uri for the honour, We Underwalders freely wave our claim. MEL. Ay, well retire; for we are supplicants. And seek assistance from our mightier friends. STAUF. Let Uri then take up the sword. Her banner Doth lead in war the vanguard of our armies. WALTER FURST. Switz shall partake the honour of the sword ; From her we all derive our origin. i ROS. Let me compose this honourable strife. ^ Uri shall lead in battle — Switz in counsel. WALTER FURST (offers the sivords to Stauffacher.) Take them ! STAUF. Not I. Such honour 's for our elders. HOFE. Ulric the Smith is eldest of us all. MAUER. The man's a brave one but he is not free. No bondman can be judge in Switzerland !f * The Waibel was a sort of clerk or secretary, t This was declared in a charter of Rudolph of Hapsburg, bearing date 1291. The words of the charter are, " Inconveniens sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. G9 . STAUF. Is not Herr Reding here, the old Landam- man ? Where can we find a worthier than he ! WALTER FURST. He shall be Amman and our chief to-day. Let those who vote it so, raise up their hands. [All hold up their right hands. RED. (coming forward into the middle of the group.) I cannot lay my hand upon a book, — So swear I then by the eternal stars. That I will never deviate from justice. [ Two sivords are set up before him. The circle draws around him. The Sivitzers compose the middle — the men of Uri the right, and the Underwalders the left of it. Reding stands leaning on his sword. Why is it we three mountain clans are met Here, on the lake's inhospitable shore. And at the hour when spirits walk the night ? What may the purport be of this new bond Which we must make beneath the starry heav'^n ? reputat nostra serenitas quod aliquis servilis conditionis existens prejudice vobis detur:" and the reason of it was, that he who was bound to obey a bondman, must, a fortiori, be bound to obey the lord of that bondman. — See MuUer, Book T. p. 17, No. 31. 70 WILLIAM TELL. ACT II. STAUF. (coming into the circle.) A new bond 's not our object. We'd renew An aboriginal agreement made Between our ancestors. Confederates ! Although we Ve sundered by lake and mountain ; Although each Canton rule itself apart ; Yet are our blood and lineage the same, And to one native land we all belong. WINK. What, is it true, as ballad rhimes aver, That we have wandered here from distant lands .^ Oh, tell us what you know about it ; so. The ancient bond shall give our new one strength. STAUF. Hear then the tale which ancient herds relate : Once was a mighty people, far away In northern lands, who suffered grievous famine : In this distress the commonwealth ordained. That each tenth man, by lot selected out. Should quit his native land. That happened ! And there went forth a number infinite Of weeping families towards the South. Their swords made way for them through Germany, E'en to the highlands of these forest-mountains. And never stayed their travel-wearied march sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 71 Until it halted on the savage dale, Where between Wiesen the Muotta flows. No trace of human being there appeared, Except a lonely hut upon the shore. In which resided he who kept the ferry ; But angry rolled the water, and denied A passage o'er. 'Twas then they saw the land More nearly, and remarked the bounteous store Of forest ; and discovered goodly springs, And fancied their beloved native land Had re-appeared ! This spot they fixed on for their resting-place, And on it built the ancient town of Switz. There spent they many a weary day, to clear The wood, entangled with wide-creeping weeds ; And when the soil could no more yield support For the increasing number of the people. O'er the Black-mountain went they far away — Ay ! e'en to Weisland, where they found concealed. Behind a wall of everlasting ice. Another people with another language. The town of Stanz erected they at Kernwald — The town of Altdorf in the vale of Rens. But ever mindful of his origin, 72 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. The real Switzer ne'er hath failed to know His brother among all the foreign tribes That since have settled in his land. For thus The heart can recognise its kindred blood. MAUER. Ay ! we are all in heart and blood the same ! ALL. (joining hands) One people are we, and we'll act as one ! STAUF. The other nations bear a foreign yoke, For they have yielded to a conqueror ; Within our landmarks also, many Serfs Reside, who owe their homage to the stranger, And whose condition fall^ upon their children ; — But we — the ancient Switzer's honoured race — We have as yet preserved our liberty ! Before no princely lord bow we the knee : Of our free-will we chose the Emperor To be protector of our liberty. < ROS. Freely we chose the Realm''s supremacy, So stands it in the Emp'ror Frederic's charter.* STAUF. Thus are the freest never wildly free ; There must exist a Chief — a Judge supreme — * This was the charter of the Emperor Frederic IL granted in 1240.— See Muller, Book I. p. 15, note 23. ,i sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 73 To give men justice in their controversies ; 'Twas therefore that our fathers, for the land They wrought from out the ancient wilderness, Conferred that honour on the Emperor, Who rules o'er Germany and Italy : And, as the other freemen of the realm Are bound alone to serve him with their swords. So is the freeman's only duty this — '.To guard the realm which guards his liberty. \ MEL. All other service were a mark of bondage. ^TAUF. Our fathers, when the Heriban* went forth, Followed the Emptor's banner — fought his battles — Marched in his armament to Italy, To set upon his head the Roman crown ! At home they ruled themselves contentedly After old usage, and their own decrees. The only thing reserved to the Emperor, Was pow'r to punish crime of deepest dye. For this appointed he a puisant Graff, -(- * The Hereban was a muster of warriors similar to the arriere ban of the French. f The German title Graff has been employed here in preference to Count, by which word it is, ordinarily, yet erroneously translat- ed. The Graff, at the period here spoken off, was simply judge of a district. (See Putter's Staat's Verfassang, Vol. I. cap. L). 74 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. Who dwelt beyond the limits of our land. He, when such crime occurred, was summoned hither, And plain and clear beneath the open sky, He spake his judgment fearing no man. Where, — Where are the traces here of servitude ? If any — contradict me, — let him speak ' HOPE. No ; as you Ve spoken think we to a man — A reign of force was ne'er by us endured. STAUF. E'en to the Emperor himself have we Refused submission, when, to grace the priests. He turned aside from justice ! For when the clergy from Einsiedeln came* He was the same officer as the GereiFa amongst the Anglo-Saxons, which title, after having been corrupted into Greve and Reve, with the word Shire prefixed to it, is at length written Sheriff. * This passage refers to a claim made in the reign of the Em- peror Henry V. by Gerhard, Abbot of Einsiedeln. The Switzers insisted that they had inherited the Alps from their ancestors, and that the Emperor was the only Lord they would receive in their country. The Abbot brought the case before the Emperor, who gave judgment in his favour. It was then that the Switzers made the answer stated in the present scene. This drew down on them the vengeance of both Emperor and Abbot, as far as outlawry and anathema could go. The Switzers, however, went on their own way, both in spite of the one and the other, not being able to compre- hend that the maintenance of their rights was a sin against God. At length, when the Emperor Frederic the First came to the throne. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 75 To litigate our title to the Alps, Whereon we Ve pastured immemorially, The Father Abbot showed an ancient grant Which yielded to him all the lordless waste, (For they had portioned out our very being ;) Thus answered we, "The Charter's an encroachment — " What 's ours no Emperor can give away ; " And if the Realm deny us right, why then / " We '11 do without the realm, upon our mountains." So spake our fathers ; and shall we, their sons, Endure the infamy of subjugation — Take from a foreign vassal what no Emperor, In all his strength, hath dared to offer us ! We have created for ourselves this ground. Our industry has changed the ancient wood Which was of yore the wild abode of bears. Into a settlement of human beings : The dragon-brood that, venom-bloated, rose From out the swamp have we exterminated- — he appointed the Count Ulric Von Lenzburg Governor of the Waldstetten, who said to the people, " The Emperor loves brave men. Do battle for him as did your forefathers, and never mind the parsons " This speech obtained for the Emperor a body of 600 young men, who followed his standard into Italy ; and the claim of the Abbot was no more heard of.— Muller, Book I. c. 15. 76 WILLIAM TELL. ACT JI. We felled the leafy cover of the fog. Which hung for ever gray about the wilderness; We broke the solid rocks, and o'er tV abyss Placed bridges for the welfare of the traveller. We've held the land for twice five hundred years.' Thus is it oyrs : — and shall a foreigner, A lordly slave, presume to forge us chains And do us outrage on our native earth ? Is there no help for such oppression ? [A great movement amongst the assembly. Yes! There is a limit to a tyrant's power. When the oppressed can nowhere find redress ; — When he can no longer support his load ; — He boldly stretches forth his hand to Heav'n, And plucks from thence that everlasting justice, Which there resides unalienable And indestructible as are the stars. The ancient state of nature comes again. Where man to man is put in opposition ; As a last mean, if every other fail. The sword is given him as arbiter ! And shall not we our dearest property sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 77 Protect 'gainst violence ! Up, up, let 's stand To guard our wives, our children, and our country ! ALL, {clashing their swords.) Ay ! we ll defend our children and our wives.' " ROS. (comes into the circle.) Think well upon 't before you draw the sword ; A peaceful compromise is in your pow'r. Say but one word, and those by whom you 're now So sorely pressed, will turn and flatter ye. Do what so often they Ve proposed in vain — Disclaim the Realm, acknowledge Austria. MAUER. What says the Priest? We swear to Austria ! BUHEL. Hear him no more, WINK. A traitor counsels us ; Our country's enemy — RED. Peace, sworn confederates ! SEWA. We do 'em homage after so much wrong ! — FLUE. We let 'em bully out of us through force What we 've denied to kindness ! MEIER. Then should we Be slaves and well deserve our slavery. MAUER. Let him who speaks of yielding us to Austria 78 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. For ever lose a Switzer^s privilege. Landamman, I insist upon't that this May be the first decree that we ordain. MEL. So be 't. Who speaks of yielding unto Austria, Let him be outcast from all right and honour, And let no Switzer take him to his fire. ALL, {lifting up their right hands.) We*'ll have it so. Be this a law. RED. {after a pause.) It is. ROS. Now are you free eVn by the law you Ve made ; Never shall Austria obtain by force That which she could not gain by friendly suit. WEILER. On with the day's proceedings. RED. Sworn confederates ! Has every peaceful medium been essay'd ? Perhaps the King is ignorant — indeed. He could not well have willed what we have borne. Let us attempt then, as a last resource. To bring our grievances before his ear, Ere we assume the sword ; for violence Is ever fearful in the fairest cause. God only helps when human help is vain. STAUF. (/o CONRAD HUNN.) Now then 's the time to give in your report. SC. II. WILLIAM TELL. 79 HUNN. I was at Rheinfeld, at the Emp'ror's palace, To make complaint against our hard oppression, And fetch the charter of our ancient freedom, Which each new King confirms on his accession. There found I many a Civic Deputy, From Swabia, and from the banks of Rhine, And each obtained his parchment easily. And wended joyfully towards his home. Your Deputy was shown unto the Council, Who put me off with empty promises. " The Emperor has now but little time : Another day he '11 think on your affair."" And as I went desponding through the hall Of the Imperial Castle, there I saw The young Duke John stand weeping bitterly. About him were the lords of Wart and Tagerfeld ; Who called to me and said, " Help you yourselves ; Expect no justice from the King." Alas ! Hath he not plundered his own brother'*s child And kept him from his lawful heritage ? The Duke demanded his maternal land. He 's now of age, and 'tis full time that he Should riile his people and dominions. What answer made the Emperor ? He put 80 WILLIAM TELL. act ii, A garland on his nephew^s head, and cried, " Behold a proper ornament for youth !" MAUER./ You Ve heard it ! Help yourselves ! "'twere folly now To hope for justice from the Emperor;,^^ No other course is left us. Now to counsel How to bring matters to a prosperous end. WALTER FURST. (comes into the circle) Let 's drive away this hated tyranny. And re-assure the ancient rights which we Have herited from our progenitors. But let 's not run unbridled in our course ; Give we to Caesar what may be his due, And let each man who owns a Seignior, Serve him according to the rules of duty. MEIER. I hold some land in fief of Austria. WALTER FURST. Then hold it on, and yield her what 's her due. WEILER. I 'm tenant to the Lords of Rappersweil.* * This was a powerful family of great antiquity in Switzerland. The town of Rappersweil was built by one of its members, and owing, it is said, to a singular accident, which is thus related by Stolberg. The Count Rudolph of Rappersweil, who lived at the end of the 11th century, wished to feel himself happy in the possession of his beautiful wife, whose virtue was neither spotless sc. II. WILLIAM TELL 81 WALTER FURST. Continue so, and pay them faith- fuUy. ROS. I 'm bound by oath, to serve my patron Saint. WALTER FURST. Then let the cloister have thy services. STAUF. I hold no fief excepting of the Kealm. WALTER FURST. Let that be paid which must, but nothing more. With their own vassals will we chase the Governors, And force our way into their fastnesses — Yet bloodlessly, if possible. The Emperor Shall see that, driven by necessity, nor unsuspected by him. As he one day returned home from the field, his steward came out to meet him before his Castle with a thoughtful mien, saying, that he must speak with him on a very weighty affair. And old Chronicle puts the following words into the Count's mouth : — " Say what thou Milt, my good Steward, so long as thou sayest nothing evil of my wife ; for whenever I think of her beauty, my soul is so rejoiced, that all trouble and disap- pointment is checked, and her gracefulness so enraptures me, that I forget all harm and am glad as often as I return home." The steward, well seeing that the infatuated warrior would take his accusation amiss, bethought him quickly of something else, and said that he had, during the Count's absence, found a con- venient place to build a strong city, and showed him the spot on which, in the j'ear 1091, Count Rudolf founded the present town. G 82 WILLIAM TELL. act ii. We Ve merely cast aside respect for him ; And if he see us stay within our bounds, Belike his rage will yield to policy ; For nations are with reason to be feared, Who, sword in hand, can act with moderation. RED. But let ""s hear how we may accomplish it : The enemy has weapons in his hand. And surely will not leave the field without a blow. STAUF. He will though, if he see us up in arms — We '11 rush upon him ere he be prepared. MEIER, /^hat ""s easy said, and yet the doing 's hard.^ Within the land two castles hft their heads ; These, if the King should fall upon our land. Would give the foe protection, and be dangerous. — Roszberg and Samen must be won before A sword be drawn in either of the Cantons. STAUF. Why wait so long .? the foe will be advised : There are too many who partake our secret. MEIER. Throughout the Waldstetten, you'll find no traitor. ROS. But even zeal may cause it to be known. WALTER FURST. If thus we dally, we shall have in Altdorf sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. _ aS The Dungeon finished, and the Governor Safe fortified within. MEIER. You think but of yourselves. SACRIST. ^ And you're unjust to us. MEIER. {Growing angry) Unjust ! dare Uri offer us that taunt .? RED. Peace ! on your oath ! MEIER. Oh, certainly ! If Switz Unite with Uri we may well be still. RED. I warn you both before the Diet here, That you disturb it with your controversy. Do not we all embrace a common cause .? WINK. Let 's wait until the coming feast ;* for then The serfs, according to an ancient custom. Bring presents to the Governor at Samen. There can some ten or twelve selected men Assemble unremarked within the fortress. Let these have lance-heads hidden on their persons, Which they may fix upon their staves with ease (For no one armed may come within the castle). Near in the wood we 11 have a reinforcement, And if, perchance, the others win the gate, Then, on the blowing of a horn, shall all * This was the feast of Christmas. G 2 84 WILLIAM TELL. act ii Rush forward from their ambuscade ; and thus We win the castle at an easy price. MEL. I '11 undertake to scale the walls of Roszberg ; For there 's within the garrison a wench Who ""s not hard-hearted. I can fool her easily. If I arrange with her a nightly meeting, She'll not refuse to let me down a rope — Once up, 1 11 draw my friends up after ! RED. Are all agreed in favour of delay ? [The majority hold up their hands. STAUF. (Counts the votes) There's twenty for it, and but twelve against ! WALTER FURST. If, on the day we 've named, the Castles fall. From each we '11 give a signal to the other By means of smoke. Then quickly in the Capital Of every Canton shall the * Landsturm rise. If once the Governors behold us armed. Believe me that they '11 soon give o'er the strife And grasp at, gladly, leave to make retreat In peace, beyond the borders of the land. STAUF. With Gessler only do I fear a stand: * A sort of National Militia. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 85 He 's fearfully girt round with cavalry—^ Blood will be shed ere he retreat. He ll e'en Be fear'*d when we Ve expelled him from the land. 'Tis hard and perilous to let him 'scape. BAUM. Let me be stationed in the post of danger. To Tell I 'm debtor for a rescued life. And for his country freely I '11 expose it. I 've saved my honour, and my heart is hght. RED. Time will bring counsel.* Wait with pati- ence. We May also trust the moment when we act Will not be adverse. But see ! while we prolong our nightly conference. The morning's glowing watch-fire shines above The highest mountains. Come, let 's separate, Before the daylight overtake us here. WALTER FURST. Fear not; the night will long be on the valleys. [All involuntarilj/ take off their hats and contemplate silentlj/ the dawn. * In the original— "' Die Zeit bringt Rat^'' i. e. Time brings Counsel. This is a proverb amongst the Germans, meaning, that Time, by developing difficult circumstances, enables us to see our way through them, and so gives us counsel how to act. 86 WILLIAM TELL. act n. ROS. By this fair light, which greets us here before All other nations, lying deep beneath us, And breathing hard amid the smoke of cities. Let 's strengthen with an oath our new alliance. — We 11 be a nation of united brothers, In no distress nor peril will we part. [All repeat it after him, holding up three* Jingers. We 11 be as free as were our forefathers, And rather die than live in slavery. [Repeated as above. We '11 put our trust in God omnipotent, And tremble not before the pow'r of man. [Thei/ repeat as above and embrace each other. STAUF. Let each man now go quietly his way To his acquaintance and companions. Let every hind go winter up his flock. And levy friends in secret for our Bond. What in the interval we 're doomed to bear. E'en let us bear it. Let our reckoning Grow great against the tyrants till the day Of general and especial payment come. When all shall be discharged. * This was the ancient custom on taking an oath. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 87 Let every one repress his just resentment. And hoard his vengeance for the general swoop ; For he that helps himself, for private ends, Commits a theft upon the Commonwealth. [While they go off silently at three different sides, the orchestra commences a majestic strain, and the scene remains open for some time and shows the sun rising above the icebergs. 88 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. ACT III. SCENE I. The court-yard of Tell's house. He is occupied with a carpenter''s axe, and Hedwig with household work. Walter and Wilhelm are in the background plat/irig with a small cross-bow. WALTER {sings.) With arrow and bow Must the Hunter away. Over mountain and dale. At the dawning of day. Though the vulture be king Of the region of air. Yet the Hunter below Hath a kingdom as fair. He 's monarch of space. And whate'er through it flies, And all that his arrow Strikes down is his prize. ( Comes forivard skipping. My bowstring's broken. — Make another, father. TELL. Not I ! An archer ought to help himself. [The boys go off. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 89 HED. The boys begin betimes to use the bow. /^ TELL. He who'd be master of his weapon must, y HED. Ah ! would to God they never learnt it. — TELL. Pooh ! They shall learn all.- WhoM fight his way through life, Must be prepared alike to strike and ward. HED. Ah ! is there no one destined to remain At home .? TELL. Not I, for one. — You know it, wife — Nature ne'er made me for a herdsman's life : She made me restless, and impels me on After a flying mark ! I never feel ^The full enjoyment of my life so well As when I strike down daily something newy^ HED. And think 'st thou nought of the anxiety Thy wife endures while waiting thy return .? I ever shudder when I hear the servants Relate thy feats of desperate adventure. My heart misgives me every time we part, Lest thou should'st never more return to mo. I fancy thee on some wild frozen mountain, Bewilder'd among rocks, and leaping fearfully From crag to crag. I see the Chamois caught, Spring back, and drag thee with him down a chasm ; iX) WILLIAM TELL. act hi. Or else I see the snowdrift overwhelm thee; Or under thee the treacherous ice give way, And down thou sinkest irredeemably, Buried alive in some terrific pit. Death, in a hundred varying forms, pursues The daring hunter on the rugged Alps. Oh ! 'tis a most unlucky occupation That must be follow''d at the risk of life ! TELL. Who looks about him sharply and with judgment. And trusts in God and to his pliant strength, May bear him easily through every peril. He who is mountain-bom should fear no mountain. [He finishes his tvork and lays hy his instrument. Now then I think the gate will hold awhile. An axe at hand oft saves the carpenter. [Takes his hal. HED. Where would you go ? TELL. To Altdorf — to your father. HED. Thy thoughts are bent on something dangerous ! Confess it ! TELL. How came such a thought to thee.'* HED. There's something spinning 'gainst the Go- vernors. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 91 I know full well that there hath been a meeting ' Upon the Rootli — and that thou 'rt engaged. TELL. I was not with them ; yet, be well assured, I '11 not hold back whene'er my country calls. HED. Wherever danger is they '11 station thee ; The hardest service ever will be thine. i^TELL. Each man must help according to his means. / HED. The Underwalder hast thou, even in the storm, Transported o'er the Lake; a wonder 'twas That you escaped. Why, wilt thou never think On wife and child ? TELL. Dear wife ! I thought on both, And therefore rescued I a father for his children. HED. To launch thy boat upon the raging Lake, Oh ! never call it putting trust in God, But call it rather, tempting his displeasure ! tell/ Who thinks so very much, will do but ver^ ' little^ HED. Ay ! thou art prodigal of thy assistance ; Thou servest all ; and when thou com'st thyself To need assistance, thou wilt hardly find it. TELL. May God forbid that I should have to seek it. [He takes his boio and arrows. ^^ WILLIAM TELL. act hi. HED. Why take thy cross-bow ? Leave it here. ^^^^' ' - I might As well leave here my arm, as leave my bow. [Boi/s come forward. WALTER. Where go you, father ? TELL. To your grand-dad, boy. At Altdorf. Wilt along .? WALTER. Ay ! gladly will I. HED. The Governor is there. Don H go to Altdorf. TELL. He goes to day. HED. But let him first be gone. Remind him not of thee. Thou know 'st he hates us. TELL. Ay ! but his hatred will not injure me ; I do what 's right and fear no enemy. HED. Those who do right, are those he hates the most. TELL. Because he canH come at them ! Sure am I, The Knight will let me go my way in peace. HED. Art thou so sure of that ? TELL. Not long ago I hunted o'er the savage neighbourhood Of Schachenthal— upon a desert track. And as alone a crag-path I pursued. Where there was no avoiding me, and where SCI. WILLIAM TELL. 93 Above me hung a rugged precipice, And under roared down frightfully the torrent, [^The tivo hoys press toivards him on the right and left, and regard him with curiosity on the stretch. I saw the Governor approach towards me. He was alone ; and so was I. We stood Man against man, and near us the abyss. And as he came in view and recognised In me, a man whom he, short time before, Had punished heavily for slight offence, — ' And saw me with a stalwart bow in hand Come right upon him, he grew pale as death, His knees refused their office, and I saw That he was on the precipice's edge. I pitied him. I went straight up to him. And said respectfully — " I 'm Tell, Lord Governor."' But fear had locked his voice within his throat, From whence no sound could issue. With his hand He signed me to be still, and go my way. I went, and sent him his attendants. HED. How! He trembled then before thee ! Woe the while ! yThou 'st seen his weakness and he 11 ne'er forgive it. / TELL. Then I '11 avoid him — and he '11 not seek me. 94 ' WILLIAM TELL. act hi. HED. But go not there to-day. Rather go hunt. TELL. What 's come to thee 'f HED. I 'm anxious — stay away. TELL. But why torment thyself without a cause ? HED. Why wilt thou go without a cause .^^ — Stay here. TELL. Dear wife, I gave my promise that I 'd come. HED. Must thou.? — then go; but leave the boys with me. WALTER. Oh no, dear mother ! I must with my father. HED. What, Walter, wilt thou, then, forsake thy mother ? WALTER. 1 11 bring you something pretty back from Altdorf.* [Exit loith his father. WIL. Pll stay with thee, dear mother. HED. {Throwing her arms around him) Yes, thou art My own dear child. Thou It stay, although alone ! [She goes to the gate of the court, and follows for a long time, with her eyes, her husband and son. * The original has it '* vom Ehni," i. e, from Grand-dad. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 95 SCENE II. A secluded wild forest ground. Rivulets* are seen falling in spray over the cliffs. Enter Bertha, in hunting attire, and immediately after her, RuDENZ. BERTHA. He follows me. Now then, 1 11 speak my thoughts. RUD. {comes hastily in) Fraulein,-f* at length I find you unattended. Here are we moated round by yawning chasms ; In this wild waste I fear no witnesses ; Thus then I** 11 rid my heart of a long silence — BERTHA. Stay, are you sure the chase will not come here ? RUD. The chase is there — away. Now then, or never ! I seize this precious moment eagerly, For I must see my destiny decided, * These are called in German, Staubbache, or dust-brooks. t The title by which an unmarried German woman of family is addressed. 96 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. E'^en should it sunder us eternally. Arm not your gentle eye with dark reproof. As if 'twould say to me, " What man art thou, " That elevates his daring wish to me ?*" As yet, indeed, am I unknown to fame, Nor dare I range me in the glittering rank Of knights, renown'd in arms, who court your smiles. I Ve nothing but a heart of love and truth. BERTHA. Dare you discourse to me of love and truth .?— You, who are false to your most sacred duty ! [Rudenz starts back. You, who have sold yourself a slave to Austria, The foreign tyrant of your countrymen ! RUD. Hear I, from you, this imputation, Fraulein ? What but yourself sought I on Austria's side ? BERTHA. And didst thou think to find me on the side Of treachery ? I 'd rather give my hand To Gessler even, tyrant as he is. Than to a Switzer who forgets his nature. And who can make himself a servile — -tool ! RUD. O God ! must I hear this ? BERTHA. How ! what is there ' SC. II. WILLIAM TELL. 97 A good man prizes dearer than his country ? What fairer duty for a noble heart, Than to be champion of innocence, And vindicate the right of the oppressed ? Deep in my soul I feel your nation's wrongs— I suffer with it ; and can't but love So mild a people, yet so energetic. They 've fully won my heartfelt admiration, And every day increases my respect. But yoM, by nature and by knightly duty. Their born and constituted guardian — You have abandoned them ! and, traitor-like. Deserted to their enemy, and now Make fetters for their land. The part you Ve played Has hurt and mortified me sorely ! I 'm compell'd To curb my heart, that I may hate you not. RUD. Can I do better for my people's weal ? I 'd give them, under Austria's mighty sceptre. The peace BERTHA. The bondage — that 's what you'd prepare ! You 'd hunt their freedom from the last retreat That yet remains to it upon the earth. " The people better understand their happiness : 98 WILLIAM TELL. ACT III. No gilded bait beguiles their steady sense. Your head has long been in the fisher's net. RUD. You hate me. Bertha — ^you despise me! BERTHA. Ah ! 'Twere better that I did. But when I see The very man despised and despicable Who might indeed be loved — RUD. ^ O Bertha! Bertha! You point me out the highest heavenly bliss, And in a moment plunge me in despair. / BERTHA. No, no, your nobleness is not quite stifled, It merely slumbers.^/l 11 awaken it. You Ve tried by violence to mortify The innate virtue of your ancient race : 'Tis well that it was mightier than you, And, 'gainst your will, preserved you good and noble. RUD. You trust me, then.? O Bertha, for your love, Will I be all you 'd wish me to become ! BERTHA. Be that which Nature made you in her bounty. And fill the place for which she destined you. Stand by your people and your native land. And combat for their heav'n-born right. RUD. Alas ! sc. IJ. WILLIAM TELL. 99 How can I hope to win you, and possess you. If I oppose me to the Emp'ror's power ? It is your kindred's will, and not your own. Must be consulted where your hand 's bestowed. BERTHA. In the Waldstetten lies my patrimony ; And when the Switzer 's free, shall I be too. RUD. What a perspective do you show me, Bertha ! BERTHA. Hope not to win my hand through Aus- tria's favour. Already do they grasp at my inheritance, That it may be united to a greater. This hunger after land, which wars against Your liberty, doth also threaten mine. Oh, I am destined for the sacrifice ! Perhaps to recompense some favourite. There, where deceit and falsehood find abode, — There, to the Emptor's court, shall I be dragged To wear the chains of some detested marriage ! — 'Tis love — and your's alone — can rescue me ! RUD. And could you then determine here to live, And be my own upon my native soil ? O Bertha ! all my longing to go forth, Wliat was it, but a wish to follow you.'* You sought I only on the way to glory ; H 2 100 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. And my ambition — all arose from love ! But can you really, in these tranquil vales, Renounce with me the splendour of the earth ? Oh ! then I Ve found the mark at which I aim'd : Then may the stream of this tempestuous world Strike the firm basis of our mountain land. No more I feel a fugitive desire To roam abroad on the expanse of life. Then may these rocks extend around us here Their strong impenetrable battlements. And this secluded vale of happiness Alone be open to the light of heav'n ! BERTHA. Now thou art all that my foreboding heart Declared. My confidence has not betrayed me. RUD, Away thou vain conceit that turn'd my brain ! Now shall I find my happiness at home, Here where my playful boyhood was developed. Surrounded by a thousand joyful recollections ; Where every spring and tree but lives for me ; Here, in my native land, wilt thou be mine. Yes, I have always loved it, and I feel Without it earthly bliss had not been perfect. BERTHA. Where may a clime of happiness be found sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 101 If His not in this land of innocence ? Here, where primeval faith hath still a home Which falsehood hath not yet discovered ? Envy shall ne'er disturb our happiness, And ever brightly shall the hours fly on. There see I thee, in pride of manly worth, Free and the firs^ among as free a people ; Honoured with purely free allegiance ; Great as the sceptred monarch of a realm ! RUD. There see I thee, the paragon of women. Fulfil the endearing duties of a wife. Create for me a heav'n within my halls ; And, as the spring-time spreads abroad its flowVs, Enrich my life with exquisite enjoyment, And all around thee bless and animate. BERTHA. Now then thou knowest wherefore I was grieved. At seeing thee thyself annihilate The prospect of this life of more than bliss. Alas, alas ! how hard would be my fate. Were I obliged to follow some proud knight. Some cruel tyrant, to his gloomy castle ! Here is no castle ; — here no battlements Divide me from a people, I would prosper. 102 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. RUD. But how to rescue me — ^how loose the noose My own imprudence placed around my neck ? BERTHA. Rend it apart with manly resolution, And, come what will of it/support thy people. It is thy bom and bounden duty, y [A hunting horn is heard in the distance. Hark! The chase comes nearer, we must separate. Fight for thy country, and thou 11 fight for me. 'Tis but one enemy that makes us tremble, And one enfranchisement will make us free. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A meadow near Altdorf. Trees are in the foreground, and in the background is a hat on a pole. The pros- pect is bounded by the Bannbej'g, over which rise the snow-covered mountains. Frieshart and Leuthold keeping watch. FRIES. We keep our watch in vain ; for nobody Will come this way to pay the hat respect. Once it was like a yearly market here, sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 103 But now the green 's entirely desolate, Since we've stuck up that scarecrow on the pole. LEUT. Only the wretched rabble show themselves, Doffing their ragged caps as if to mock us; What honest folks there are, will undertake A circuit over more than half the town Rather than bend their backs before the hat. FRIES. They'll be obliged to cross this place at noon^ As they come hither from the council-house. Then, to my thinking, we shall have a catch ; For no one going thought to greet the hat. One Rozelman, the parson, saw it. He Had just been visiting the sick, and stood Right opposite us with the Eucharist. Just then the Sacrist rung his little bell. And all fell on their knees — myself among 'em, And haird the Pix ; but never.one the hat. LEUT. Hark ye, my comrade, I begin to think That here we 're in a sort of pillory. 'Tis scandalous to make a soldier Stand sentinel before an empty hat : Each honest fellow must despise us for 't. And then to make obeisance to a hat ! Upon my soul, 'tis but a silly order. 104 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. FRIES. And why not bow before an empty hat ? Thou 'st bent thy knee to many an empty skull. Enter Hildegard, Mechthild, and Elsbeth, ivith children, and place themselves about the pole. LEUT. And thou 'rt a busy knave, that takes delight In bringing honest fellows into trouble. Let who will pass along before the hat, I '11 shut my eyes, and so he 11 pass unseen. MEGH. There hangs the Governor. Now mind, you boys. Pay him his due respect. ELSBETH. I would to God He 'd go and leave us nothing but his hat f The country wouldn't be a bit the worse. FRIES, (drives them away.) Will ye be gone? ye cursed tribe of women ! Who ask'd for you ? Go, send your husbands here, If they be brave enough to slight the order. [Exeunt ivomen and children. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 105 Enter Tell with his cross-bow, leading his boy Wal- ter by the hand. They go past the hat without remarking it, totvards the front part of the scene, WALTER, (pointing towards the Bannberg.) Father, is 't true that on the mountain there If anybody give the trees a cut, Blood will be seen to flow ? TELL. Who told thee so ? WALTER. The master-hind. — " The trees are charm- ed," said he, " And whosoever does them injury, His hand won't rest beside him in the grave." TELL. The trees are charmed. He told thee but the truth. See in the distance there — the frozen horns That lose their lofty summits in the sky. — WALTER. Those are the glaciers, where the nightly thunder Roars and sends down on us the avalanche. TELL. 'Tis even so. Long since the avalanche Had buried Altdorf underneath its weight, Had not those forest trees above the town, Stood like a band of patriots in its way. 106 WILLIAM TELL. act in. WALTER, {after a momenfs thought.) But, father, are there countries without mountains ? TELL. Ay. If a man go downwards from our heights. And keep descending as the rivers flow. He '11 reach at last a broad and level country, Where streams no more rush foaming through the woods. But train their floods on slow and tranquilly. The com grows there in long and beauteous islets. And all the country shows like any garden. WALTER. But why then, father, do not we go down Immediately to such a beauteous land. Instead of grieving and complaining here ? TELL. The land is fair, and bounteous as Heaven ; But those who till it, — they may not enjoy The blessings of a harvest. WALTER. Dwell they not. Like you, in freedom on their heritage ? TELL. Their fields belong unto the King and Bishop. WALTER. But may they not go hunt among the woods ? TELL. The wood and all within it is their lord's. WALTER. But may they not fish freely in the streams ? sc. III. WILLIAM -TELL. 107 TELL. Stream, lake and sea, belong unto the King. WALTER. Who is the King whom all men fear so much ? TELL. He's one, who feeds and gives them his protection. WALTER. Have they not courage to protect them- selves ? TELL. Not one of them dare trust his neighbour there. WALTER./ So broad a land were too confined for me ; I 'd rather dwell beneath the avalanche. TELL. Ay, my brave boy, an iceberg at one's back Were better than an evil-minded man. [They move onwards. WALTER. Why, father, there's a hat upon a pole ! TELL. Pooh! what's the hat to us.? Come, let's begone ! [ While he is going on, Frieshart advances to him with his pike extended. FRIES. Stand, and surrendjer in the Emp'ror's name ! TELL, (taking hold of the pike.) What would you ? Wherefore do you stop me thus ? FRIES. You broke the order — You must follow us. LEUT. You have not made obeisance to the hat. / |08 WILLIAM TELL. act in. TELL. Friend, let me go ! FRIES. Off, off with him to prison! WALTER. To prison with my father ! Help! oh, help! Here, here, you men — good people come and help ! Quick, quick, they "'re taking him away to gaol ! Enter Rozelman the Priest, Peterman the Sacrist, and three other men. Sac. What is H.? ROZ. Why lay'st thou hands upon this man.? FRIES. He is the Emptor's enemy; a traitor ! tell, a traitor, /.' ROZ. Thou err 'st, my friend ! 'tis Tell, An honourable man, and worthy citizen. WALTER. {Sees Walter Fiirst, and hastens to him.) Grandfather, help ! They 're forcing him away. FRIES. Away with him to prison ! WALTER FURST. (entering and going towards them) Hold ! I offer surety. For God's sake. Tell, say what 's befallen thee ? Enter Melchthal and Stauffacher. FRIES. He hath despised and will not recognize The sovereign power of the Governor. sc. III. WILLIAIM TELL. 109 STAUF. Has Tell done that ? MEL. 'Tis all a lie, thou knave ! LEU. He would not make obeisance to the hat. WALTER FURST. And therefore take ye him to prison? — Friend, Take my assurance, and dismiss him harmless. FRIES. Keep thy assurance to assure thyself: We do our duty. Forth with him, I say ! MEL. (To the people) No, this is crying violence ! Shall we Let him be taken insolently thus Before our very eyes ? SACRIST. We are the strongest ! Friends, donH suffer it. Let 's stand, and back each other here. FRIES. Who is 't Resists the order of the Governor ? PEOPLE, {hastening up to them) What is 't.? We'll help you. Strike 'em to the ground ! TELL. I '11 help myself alone. Go, go, good people! Think you, that if I wished to rescue me By force, I 'd tremble at a lance's point ? Re-enter Hildegard, Mechtheld, and Elsbeth. MEL. {to FRIES.) Now, then, remove him from us if you dare ! 110 WILLIAM TELL. act in. WALTER FURST. Be quiet ! STAUF. Still ! FRIES, (cries out) A riot ! a revolt ! [Hunting horns are heard. WOMEN. There goes the Governor ! FRIES. {Raising his voice) Revolt and Inurder ! STAUF. Cry, rascal, till thou burst ! ROS. Wilt hold thy tongue ? FRIES, {cries louder.) Help ! help the servants of the law ! WALTER FURST. Here comes The Governor ! Oh ! what will happen now ? Enter Ges^IjER on horseback, with a falcon on histuristy Rudolph der Harras, Bertha, and Rudenz, and a great suite of men-at-arms., loho form a circle of lances round the stage. HARRAS. Room for the Governor ! GESS. Disperse them, there ! Why do the people crowd ? Who called for help ? [A general silence. Who was it ? Know I will. Thou comest forward ! [To Frieshart. Who art thou ? and why holdest thou that man ? sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. Ill FRIES. Most potent sir, your man-at-arms am I ; A trusty sentinel before the hat. This man I seized in the very fact As he refused obeisance to the hat. And when, as you commanded, I 'd have ta^en him off, The people tried to rescue him by force. GESS. {after a pause.) Dost thou so much despise thy Emp'ror, Tell, And me who here give order in his stead, That thou refusest honour to the hat Which I set up to prove your loyalty ? Thou hast betrayed to me thy wicked thoughts. TELL. Forgive me, gracious lord ! It happened Not through contempt, but piwe forgetfulness. If I were circumspect, I were not Tell.* Pray pardon me, 1 11 not again offend. GESS. {after another pause.) Thou art a master of the cross-bow. Tell ; Men say no archer can compete with thee. WALTER. And that 's the truth, my Lord; my father 11 hit A growing apple at a hundred paces. GESS. Is that thy youngster. Tell ? * War' ich besonnen, hiess ich nicht der Tell ; il2 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. TELL. Ay ! my good Lord. GESS. And hast thou more of them ? TELL. Two boys, my Lord- G ESS. And which is 't of them that thou lov'st the best ? TELL. Sir, both of them are equally my children. Gess. Since thou canst hit an apple on a tree A hundred paces off, 111 have thee show Thy mastery before me. Take thy bow — Thou hast it there at hand, — and make thee ready To shoot an apple — upon that boy's head ! — But, I advise thee, take unerring aim. Shoot, and but once, and see thou hit the mark ; For if thou fail thy head is forfeited ! [All shudder. Tell. Sir! what unheard of thing is this that you Propose to me ? I ! on my own child** s head ! INo, no, my Lord, you surely could not mean it. Forbid it, gracious God, that seriously You could require it at a father's hand ! gess. An apple shalt thou shoot on that boy's head. I do require it, and I '11 have it done ! TELL. I ! I direct my bow against the head Of my own child ! No, rather death than that ! gess. Shoot, or, by God thou diest with thy boy ! TELL. I shall become the butcher of my child ! sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 113 You have;,no children, sir. — You cannot know The strong emotion of a father's heart. GESS. Why, Tell, thou Vt suddenly grown circumspect! They told me that thou wert a visionary. Who shunned the ways of ordinary men. Thou lov'st the marvellous, and, therefore, I Have sought thee out a most uncommon venture. Another had reflected on 't, but thou — Can'st shut thy eyes and go about it bravely. BERTHA. Sport not, my lord, with these poor wretched people ; You see them stand before you pale and trembling, So little are they used to hear you jest. GESS. And who told you I jested ? [Catches at the branch of a tree that hangs over him. Here 's the apple. Make room there, — room ! and let him take his distance, As 'tis the use. I give him eighty yards ; Not more nor less. He boasts himself that he Can hit his man a hundred paces off*. Now archer, shoot ! and fail not of the mark ! HARRAS. God, that was earnest ! Fall, boy, on thy knees. And beg the Governor to spare thy life. 114 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. WALTER FURST. {aside to Melchthal, who can scnrcely restrain his impatience.) Restrain yourself. — I pray you to be calm. BERTHA, (to the Governor.) Let it suffice, my lord ; it is unmanly To sport so with a father's agony. Could this poor man, for such a slight offence. Have been condemned to forfeit life and limb. Already has he suffered tenfold death. Let him go home uninjured to his hut : He 's learnt to know you ; and this hour will be Remembered even by his children's children. GESS. Open the lane there — quick ! [To Tell. Why tarriest thou ? Thy life is forfeited. I might condemn thee. Yet see, I mercifully place thy fate E''en in thy own most scientific hand. /lae that is master of his destiny • Should not impeach the doom that makes him so ! Z' Thou gloriest in a never-failing eye ! 'Twill serve the, archer, here to show thy art. The mark is fair, and the reward is great ! To hit the centre of a target, — that Were occupation for a common man : The man whom I term master, he must be sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 116 Supremely perfect in his mystery. Nor let his heart disturb his hand or eye. WALTER FURST. (falls on his knees.) Lord Governor, we recognise your greatness, But, oh, let mercy here prevail o'er justice ; Take half my fortune, — take it all ; but let A father ""scape from such a hideous doom ! WALTER. Grandfather, do not kneel to that false man ! Where shall I place me ? Say. I fear me not. My father 11 shoot a bird upon the wing ; And sure am I, he will not harm his child. ST A UP. (to Gessler.) Have you no pity for the poor child's innocence ? ROZf Oh ! think that there 's a God in heav'n above — That you must one day answer for your deeds/' GESS. (points to the boy.) Bind him directly to that lime tree. WALTER. Bind me ! No, I will not be bound. I ll stand as still As any lamb. I will not even breathe ; But if you bind me — no, it cannot be. For I should surely struggle 'gainst my oonds. HARRAS. But let, at least, thy eyes be bound, my boy! I 2 116 WILLIAM TELL. act hi WALTER. And why my eyes ? Because you think I fear An arrow from my father's hand ? I '11 wait it Calmly, and not so much as wink an eyelash. Quick, father, show 'em thou 'rt an archer ! They Believe it not, and think to ruin us. Shoot and succeed in spite of tyranny ! [He goes to the lime tree, and the apple is put on his head. MEL. {to the people.) What! shall such wickedness before our eyes Be consummated ? Wherefore have we sworn ? STAUF. 'Twere vain. We 're here entirely weapon- less. See what a wood of lances hems us in ! MEL. Oh, that we 'd £xed an earlier time to act ! God pardon those who counsel'd the delay f 6ESS. To work ! men do not carry arms for nothing. 'Tis dangerous to bear such deadly weapons. The arrow oft recoils upon the bowman ; And this proud right, which peasants would assume. Offends the highest lord of all the land. Let none go armed but those that have command. It pleases i/ou to carry bow and bolt ; — It rests with me to find you out a mark. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 117 TELL, {draws his bow and sets his arrow.) Open the lane — make rooir^ ! STAUF. What, Tell, you would! on no account — you tremble — Your knees are faltering, and your hand 's unnerved. TELL. All swims before my eyes ! WOMEN. O God of Heav'n ! TELL, {to the Governor.) Absolve me of this shot. Here, here 's my heart, [iife lai/s bare his breast. Call up your horsemen — bid them strike me low. GESS. I do not want thy life, I 'd see thee shoot. Thy talent 's universal ! nothing daunts thee ! The rudder and the bow fit equally thy hand ; No storm affrights thee when a rescue 's needed ! Now then, philanthropist, go help thyself — Thou rescuest all ! [Tell stands feai-f idly struggling loith his feelings, his hands clasped and his eyes rolling, and di- rected alternately toioards Heaven and the Go- vernor. At length he cautiously takes from his quiver a second arrow and sticks it in his goller.* The Governor marks all his movements. * The goller was a sort of belt worn on the upper part of the person. 118 WILLIAM TELL. act in. WALTER, (under the lime tree.) Shoot, father, shoot! I fear me not* TELL. I must. [He collects himself and takes aim. RUD. (who has been all the while standing in violent excitation, and forcibly constraining his feelings^ comes forwards.) Lord Governor, the thing must go no further. It shall not. 'Twas but an experiment. Your object 's now attained.^ Severity, Although it be required, doth miss its mark When driven too far. A bow that 's overstrained Will break / GESS. Be silent, till you 're called upon. RUD. I must, and will have liberty to speak. To me the honour of the King is holy ; But such a rule must needs engender hate. Such hath the King not wiird — I dare avouch it. My nation merits not such cruelty, And you have no commission to inflict it. GESS. Ha ! you grow bold ! RUD. I 've tamely held my peace - In spite of all the grievous deeds I Ve seen ; My eyes that saw them I 've essayed to shut — sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 119 My swelling and rebellious heart have I Kept under in my bosom forcibly ; But longer to be silent were a treason At once against my country and the Emperor. BERTHA. {Throws herself between them.) O God ! you but provoke his rage the more. RUD. I left my nation, I abandoned My blood relations, and I rent asunder All ties of nature, to unite with you. I thought to benefit the general weal By making strong the Emperor's authority. The scales have fallen from my eyes — I shudder ! I gee the precipice on which I stand ! My artless judgment have you led astray. My candid heart seduced — I 'd nearly wrought My nation 's ruin, meaning to befriend it. GESS. Insolent boy ! this speech unto thy lord? RUD. The Emperor 's my lord — not you ! I 'm bom As free as you ; and I will measure me With you in any knightly virtue. And if you stood not in the EmpVor's name, Which I respect, howe'er it be abused, I 'd throw my gauntlet down before your feet. And you should give me answer as a knight. 120 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. Ay, beckon to your horsemen ! I stand here Not weaponless like those — [Pointing to the people, A sword have I, And he who dares approach — [During this dialogue, and while all draio near, and Bertha throws herself between Rudenz and the Governor, Tell shoots the arrow. STAUF. {Calls out.) Tlie apple 's fallen ! ROZ. The boy 's unhurt ! MANY VOICES. The apple 's hit ! He lives ! [Walter Furst falters, and is ready to sink; Bertha supports him. GESS. {astonished) What ! has he shot ? The rav- ing lunatic ! BERTHA. {To Walter Furst.) He lives, good father ! He comes on towards you ! WALTER. {Comes running ivith the apple.) Here, father, here 's the apple ! Well I knew That you would never harm a hair of me. [Tell stands with his body bent forwards, as if he would follow the arrow loith his eyes. The botv falls from his hand as he sees the boy come to- wards him, and he hastens to meet him ivith open arms, presses him violently to his bosom, and then sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 121 falls down powerless. All the bystanders com- passionate him. BERTHA. Gracious Heav'n ! WALTER FURST. My children ! Oh my children ! STAUF. Now God be thank'd ! LEUT. A shot indeed was that ! They '11 talk of it as long as time shall last. HARRAS. Men will relate TelFs feat of archery, As long as mountain stands upon the ground. [Gives the apple to the Governor. GESS. By God ! the apple 's shot i' the very centre. That was a master-shot — e'en I must praise it. ROZ.'" The shot was good ; but woe to him that drove A father so to tempt God's providence. STAUF. (To Tell.) Courage! stand up, you Ve wrought your freedom bravely: You now may go uninterrupted home. ROZ. Come, come, a mother waits her son's return. [ They are going off. GESS. Tell ! TELL. What may be your will. Sir ? GESS. Thou did'st place A second arrow in thy bosom. Ay, I marked it well. What would'st thou now with that ? 122 WILLIAM TELL. ACT III. TELL. {Hesitating) Sir, 'tis a common practice amongst archers. GESS. No, Tell, that answer will not pass with me. I know full well it had another meaning : Tell me the truth at once, and cheerfully. Whate''er it be I warrant thee thy life — Wherefore the second arrow ? TELL. Well then, Sir, Since you assure me that my life is safe, I '11 tell you candidly the very truth. [He draws the arrow from his goller andjixes his eyes fearfully on the Governor. This second bolt was destined for yourself. If ought but good had happened to my child ; And had I shot, believe me I 'd not failed. GESS. Well, Tell — thy life have I secured to thee : I gave my knightly word, and I will keep it. But since I know thy murderous intention, I '11 have thee taken and kept heedfully. Where neither moon nor sun shall visit thee ; So shall I be in safety from thy bolt. Seize on him there, and bind him ! [ Tell is hound. STAUF.] How, my Lord ! sc III. WILLIAM TELL. 123 And can you think to injure thus a man Who 's been delivered by the hand of God ? GES&. Let's see if they'll again attempt his rescue. Put him aboard my bark. 1 11 follow straight, For I will carry him with me to Klissnach. ROZ. You dare not — e'en the Emp'ror dare not do't, 'Twould contravene the charters of our freedom. GESS. Where are they ? Hath the Emperor Confirmed them ? No, he hath not. Such a favour Must first be won by your obedience ! You're rebels all against the Emp'ror's judgment, And nourish insolent rebellion. I know ye all. I see through all your plans. Ye all participate the guilt of him Whom 1 've just taken from the midst of ye. Let prudent men learn silence and submission. [Exit Gessler followed hy Bertha, Rudenz, Rudolph der Harras, and the men-at-arms, Frieshart and Leuthold stay behind. WALTER FURST. (with intense grief) 'Tis over with me, he 's determined To ruin me and all my family. 124 WILLIAM TELL. act hi. STAUF. (To Tell) Oh, why would you exasperate his rage ? TELL. Let him be calm who feels a smart like mine ! STAUF. Oh now is all — ay, every thing undone ! With you we all are captive and enchained. PEOPLE, (coming round Tell) With you departs our only consolation ! leut. (Approaches) Tell, I am grieved for thee — but must obey. TELL. Farewell ! WALTER. (Hanging on him with violent grief) O father, father, dearest father ! TELL. (Pointing to Heaven) There is thy father. Call on him above ! STAUF. Say, is there nothing I may tell your wife ?- TELL. (Pressing his son with vehemence to his breast) The boy 's uninjured. God will succour me. [Tears himself away ^ and follows the soldiers. [Exeunt. WILLIAM TELL. 125 ACT IV. SCENE I. The eastern shore of the Waldstettensee. The irregularly shaped rugged cliffs to the westward of it close the prospect. The lake is agitated. A violent rushing and roarings and between whiles thunder and lightning. KuNz VON Gersau, Fisher, and Fisher-boy. KUNZ. I saw it with my very eyes. You may Depend on 't all has happened as I told you. FISHER. Tell in confinement ! — then there goes to Kussnach The best and bravest arm in all the land. If ought 's to happen for the cause of freedom. KUNZ. Gessler himself transports him o'er the lake : All was in readiness for their embarkment. Before I left Fluellen ; but the storm Which made me hasten to a landing-place May well have hindered their departure. FISHER. Tell in captivity ! — in Gessler's power ! Believe me he '11 be buried deep enough Where ne''er again he '11 see the light of day : 126 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. For Gessler needs must dread the just revenge Of one whom he 's so grievously provoked. KUNZ. The old Landamman too, the noble lord Of Attinghausen, lies, they say, expiring ! FISHER. So breaks the latest anchor of our hope : He was the only one who dared exert His voice in favour of the people's right. KUNZ. The storm increases — fare ye well, my friends ! I ""ll lodge me in the village ; for to-day All further passage may no more be thought on. [Exit. FISHER. Tell in captivity ! The Baron dead ! Lift up thy daring forehead. Tyranny, And cast all shame away ! The lip of truth Is dumb ; the eye that watched thee, blind ; The arm that should have saved us, bound in chains ! BOY. The hail falls hard — come, father, to the house ; It is not good to stay here out of doors ! FISHER. *Rage on, ye winds ! Flame down, ye deadly lightnings ! Burst, ye swoFn clouds ! Ye cataracts of Heav'n Pour yourselves out and drown the land ! Destroy * The reader will probably recognize here an imitation of the celebrated speech of Shakspeare's Lear. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. ]27 The germ of every unborn human creature ! Reign lords of all, ye savage elements, — Ye bears, ye ancient wolves that cavern'd here When all was wilderness — come back again ; The land belongs to you ! Who would live here deprived of liberty ? BOY. Hark, how the whirlpool roars from out its depths ! It never raged so yet within the Gulf ! FISHER. To aim against his own child's head ! The like Was never yet commanded of a father ! And shall not Nature, seeing it, run wild With fury, and revolt. I should not marvel If every rock bent down into the lake ; If every peak and every ice-bound spire. That ne''er hath thawed since God created it. Should from its lofty summit melt away ; If every mountain burst, and every cliff fell down, And if a second sin-destroying flood Should swallow up all living men''s abodes. [The sounds of a bell are heard. BOY. Hark ! they are ringing there upon the mountain. 128 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. Some ship in danger surely hath been seen, And the bell calls to prayer for her safety. [He goes up the cliff. FISHER. Woe to the vessel now upon her way, Doomed to be rock'd in such a fearful cradle. The storm is master, and the wind and waves Toss her about as if she were a ball; Nor far nor near is any friendly port Open to offer refuge. All around The help-denying and inhospitable rocks Stare from their tow'ring summits grimly down. And offer her their rugged stony breasts. BOY. A ship comes, father, from Fluellen here. / FISHER. God pity the poor souls ! If once the storm Should here attack them ; in this bay of ours 'Twill rage as furious as a beast of prey That strikes the iron bars before his cage, And howling seeks in vain to find escape ; For rocks bound every thing about us here. And high as heaven wall the narrow pass. >/ [He ascends the cliff, BOY. Why, 'tis the Governor of Uri's ship ; I know it by its banner and red deck. FISHER. Just God ! It is indeed the Governor sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 129 Himself who hither comes. There sails he on, And with him shipp'd his full amount of crime. Soon hath the arm of justice found him. Now, Now hath he over him a stronger lord. These waves yield no obedience to his voice ; These stubborn cliJfFs will never bow their heads Before his hat. Boy, boy, thou shalt not pray ! Thou shalt not hold the arm of the Avenger ! BOY. I pray not for the Governor; I pray For Tell alone, who 's with him in the ship. FISHER. Oh, blinded folly of the elements ! And must Thou then to strike down one offender Destroy the ship and steersman both together. BOY. See, see .' they have already passed by The Buggisgrat,* although the raging storm. Which comes rebounding from the Teufelsminster, * Has thrown them back on the Great Axen.* I Can no more see them now. FISHER. The Hackmesser* Is there where many a gallant ship "'s been wrecked ; If they don't double it right skilfully, Their ship will go to pieces on the Fluh,* Which shoots, 'mid foaming breakers, from the deep. * Rocks on the shore of the Waldstettensee. K 130 WILLIAM TELL. act iv- They Ve one good pilot at the least on board. Could any body save them it wete Tell, But he 'U be manacled from head to foot. Enter Tell with his cross-bow. He comes on at a rapid pace, looks around him in amazement, and shows the most violent emotion. When he arrives at the middle of the scene, he falls on his knees, places his hands on the earth, and then extends them to Heaven. BOY. {remarks him.) See, father ! who's the man that 's kneeling there ! FISHER. He fastens on the earth with both his hands, And seems as if he were beyond himself. BOY. {comes forward.) What see I ! Father, father, come and see ! FISHER. Who is it ? What ! Good God of Heav'n, 'tis Tell ! How came you hither from the ship ? BOY. Why ! were you not There in the ship, a prisoner, and bound ? FISHER. Were they not taking you away to Kussnach ? TELL, {stands up.) You see me free ! sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 131 FISHER. Free ! God 't is wonderful ! BOY. Whence come you here ? TELL. There, from the vessel. FISHER. What ! BOY. Where is the Governor ? TELL. Floating on the waves ! /^ FISHER. Is't possible! But 3/0/f, how came you here ? Can you have 'scaped your fetters and the storm !y^ TELL. Through God's good pi-ovidence I have. — Attend ! FiSHEft and BOY. Oh, tell us, tell us. TELL. You already know What passed at Altdorf ? FISHER. I know it all : say on I TELL. How I was seized and fettered by the Governor, And how he wished to lead me off to Kiissnach ; — FISHER. And went on shipboard with you at Fluellen. We know it all. Speak ! how have you escaped ? TELL. I lay on board severely bound with cords. Disarmed and given up ; I never hoped To see again the gladdening light of day, Nor the loved faces of my wife and children. And comfortless I look'd upon the watery waste. K 2 132 WILLIAM TELL. ACT IV. FISHER. Poor man ! TELL. So set we out ; the Governor, Rudolph der Harras, and the serving men. My quiver and my cross-bow lay together Astern, and close beside the helmsman's post ; And just as we arrived at the cape Which forms the Little Axen, God ordained That such a fearful, deadly hurricane Should burst from out the Gothard's yawning gorge, As made the heart of every rower sink, And made all think of drowning wretchedly. Then heard I the chief servant of the Governor Turn to his master and accost him thus : " You see your peril and our own, my lord. And that we hover on the verge of death. The steersmen, so inveterate is their fear. Know neither what to counsel, nor are well Advised what course to steer. But there is Tell, A stark and able man to steer a ship — How, if we use his skill in this our strait .?"" Then said the Governor to me, — " If thou Wilt undertake to help us from the storm, I 'U set thee, Tell, at freedom from thy bonds." 1 answered, — " Ay, my lord, with God's assistance, SCI. . WILLIAM TELL. 133 I '11 undertake to help us for this turn.'''' So was I loosened from my bonds, and stood Beside the rudder and steer''d fairly on. But sideways glanced I at my shooting gear, And sharply marked I all around the shore. Where'er a vantage offered to spring out, And, as I spied a reef of flattened rocks* Which runs projecting out into the lake — FISHER. I know it, ''tis the foot of the Great Axen ; But yet I cannot think it possible. So steep it mounts, to leap there from a ship. TELL. I told the crew, all hands must go to work Until we came before that rocky flat. " There !'''' cried I out aloud, " the worst is past !'' And as we reached it soon by rowing quickly, I recommended me to God's protection. And press''d the vesseFs stern with all my strength Right up towards the rock. Then seizing quick My shooting implements, and springing high, I swung myself upon the flat above, And with my foot I push'd the vessel off Behind me far on the devouring waters. There, as God pleases, it may stem the waves, * This reef is up ta the present day called Tell's Piatt. 134 WILLIAM TELL. ACT IV. So that I'm here delivered from the storm, And from the still worse violence of man. FISHER. Tell, Tell, a special miracle hath God Performed for you. I scarce can trust my senses. But tell me ! where have you resolved to fly ? Security is not for you if e'er The Governor escape the storm alive. TELL. I heard him say, as I on board the ship Lay bound, that he would land himself at Brunnen, And over Switz conduct me to his castle ! FISHER. Will he then make his journey overland ? TELL. He thinks so. FISHER. Hide thyself without delay: God may not rescue thee a second time. TELL. Tell me the nearest way to Arth and Kiissnach. FISHER. The open public road leads over Steinen, But there 's a shorter and more private way, My boy can show you, that leads over Lowertz. TELL, (gives him his hand.) May God reward you for your goodness — fare you well ! [Goes, theji turns bock. Have you not also sworn upon the Rootli ? I think they named you to me. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 135 FISHER. I was there, And swore the oath prescribed for our Bond. TELL. Do me the kindness, then, to haste towards Burglen ; My wife despairs for me. Assure her, pray, That I am rescued, and lie well conceaJ,ed. FISHER. But where shall I inform her you are fled ? TpLL. You '11 find her father at her side, and more Who Ve sworn upon the Rootli. Tell them all To be awake, and keep their courage up— That Tell 's at large — this arm as strong ever. And that e'er long they '11 hear of him agajp. FISHER. What is't you'd do? reveal it to me frankly. TELL. If it be done 9 you '11 soon have news of it. [Exit. FISHER. Show him the way, Jenni; and God stand by him ! He'll hit the mark, whate'er he undertakes. [Exeunt. 136 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. SCENE II. Family mansion of Attinghausen. The Baron dying in an arm-chair. Walter Furst, Stauffacher, Melchthal, and Baumgarten, busy about him. Walter Tell kneeling before the dying man. WALTER FURST. It 's over with him — he 's departed ! STAUF. No; He lies not like the dead. The feather, see, Moves on his lip ! His sleep is calm. And o'er his features plays a peaceful smile. [Baumgarten goes to the door and speaks with some one. WALTER FURST. {To Baumgarten) Who is \? BAUM. TeU's wife, your daughter Hedwig ; She 'd speak with you, she says, and see the boy. WALTER FURST. Can I give comfort who am com- fortless ? On my devoted head all sorrows fall ! HED. {Entering) Where, where ''s my child ? Let me — I must go to him ! sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 137 STAUF. Be tranquil. Think ! you 're in the house of death. HED. (runs towards the hoy) My Walter! Oh he lives for me ! WALTER. {Hanging about her.) Poor mother ! HED. And is it true ? Art thou, indeed, unhurt 't [Looks at him with anxious attettfion. And is it possible that he could aim 'Gainst thee ? How could he ? Oh he has no heart That could direct his arrow 'gainst his child ! WALTER FURST. 'Twas done with anguish; with a grief-rent soul They forced him — 'twas the ransom of a life. HED. Had he a father's heart he would have died A thousand times, e'er he had done such deed ! STAUF. You ought to thank God's gracious provi- dence Which ordered things so well. HED. Can I forget What might have happened ? Oh, Great God of Heav'n ! If I should live a century, the boy Will stand, for ever, bound before my eyes ; And I shall see the father take his aim. And feel the deadly arrow in my heart. 13a WILLIAM TELL. act iv. MEL. You know not how the Governor provoked him ! HED. Oh cruel hearts of men ! If once their pride Receive an insult, they lose all discretion, And stake with blinded fury on their game The child's existence and the mother's heart ! BAUM. Is not your husband's for]tune hard enough, That you must add to it a heavy blame ? — Have you no feeling for his sufferings ? HED. {Turns herself towards him and looks him full in the face.) Hast thou, then, tears alone for his misfortune ? Where, Sir, were you when your deserving friend Was cast in bonds ? Where then was your assistance ? You saw, and let the cruel deed be done ! You coolly suffered them to take your friend From out the very midst of ye ! Would Tell Have acted so by you ? Did he that time, When your pursuers pressed upon your heels — Did he stand whining, as the raging lake Was foaming in your path ? No ! not with idle tears He pitied thee ! He sprang into the boat. Forgot both wife and child, and — set thee free ! sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 139 WALTER FURST. How might we hazard his deli- verance, That were so few in number and unarm'd ! HED. {Throivs herself on his breast.) Oh, father, thou hast lost him too ! The land — We all have lost him ! He 's wanting to us all, and we to him ! May God preserve his spirit from despair '. Low in the dreary dungeon doth he lie, Where comes no friendly comfort. Should he sicken ! — Ah ! in the darkness of the humid vault, He cannot fail to sicken ! — As the Alpine rose Blanches and withers in the swampy air, So is for him no life, unless enjoyed In sunshine, and the free air's balsam-stream. Imprisoned ! — ^he !^ — ^his very breath is freedom.— A prison's atmosphere were death to him. STAUF. Be tranquil : we will all unite our means To burst his prison-gate. HED. Oh, what can i/ou achieve deprived of him ? As long as Tell was free there yet was hope ! So long had innocence a constant friend. And persecution an opposer ! 140 WILLIAM TELL. ACT IV. Tell had redeemed you all ! but all oi you Together cannot rescue him from bonds ! [The Baron awakes. BAUM. Be still, he moves ! ATTING. {Raising himself.) Where is he ? STAUF. Who? ATTING. He 's absent ! In my last moments he 's forsaken me ! STAUF. He means his nephew. Sojne one go and seek him. WALTER FURST. We 've sent out after him. Con- sole yourself. He "'s found at last his heart, and he is ours. ATTING. Hath he then spoken for his native land ? STAUF. Most valiantly ! ATTING. But wherefore comes he not That I may bless him once before I die. I feel my life fast drawing to a close. STAUF. Not so, my noble Sir : your eye is clear — This short repose hath given you new life. ATTING. To live is pain, and pain hath left me now ; My suffering has ended with my hope. [He remarks the boy. Who is that, boy ? sc. II. W1LL£AM TELL. 141 WALTER FURST. Oh biess him. Sir ! for he's My daughter's child, and he is fatherless. [Hedwig falls with the boy at the feet of the dying man. ATTING. And fatherless I leave you all ! Ay, all Behind ! Alas ! and must my latest look Behold the ruin of my native land ! Have I attained the longest span of life But to expire amid expiring hopes ! STAUF. (To Walter Furst.) He shall not die in this dark mood of sorrow. Let us light up his last departing hour With one bright ray of hope. Oh, noble Baron ! Lift up your spirit. We 're not quite deserted ; We are not ruined irredeemably ! ATTING. Who shall redeem you ? WALTER FIJRST. We ourselves. Attend! Throughout the Cantons we have pledged our word To chase our tyrants from the land. The Bond Is now concluded, and a holy oath Obliges us ! 'Twill be perform'd before The year revolves anew, and so shall rest Your ashes in a land of liberty. ATTING. Oh, tell me! is the Bond concluded? say! 142 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. MEL. On the same day will every Canton rise. All is prepared, the secret hath been kept Religiously till now, though many hundreds share it. The ground is hollow underneath the tyrants. The days are numbered of their dominion. And soon no trace of it shall more be found. ATTING. Ay, but the castles that are in the Cantoris ? MEL. They all will fall upon the self-sariie day. ATTING. And are the nobles party to your Bond ? STAUF. We hope to have their help when time may serve. As yet the peasants only have been sworn. ATTING. (raises himself slowly up with great asto- nishment.) And have the peasants dared to do such deed. Through their own means .? — without the nobles' help.? Have they so far confided in their strength ? Ours, then, they need no more, and we can go Down to the grave, consoled with the thought That "'twill live after us. Man's fairest treasure Will be upheld by other hands than ours. [He lays his hand on the head of the child, who kneels before him. On this same head, where late the apple lay. sc. 11. WILLIAM TELL. 143 A new and better liberty shall flourish, '^he time has changed : Old things are overthrown, And from their wreck shall bloom a new existence. /Z' STAUF. See what a brightness overspreads his eyes ! That is no symptom of expiring nature : A renovated life beams forth in that. ATTING. The nobles from their lofty tow'rs descend, And, to the cities, swear their Burger-oath. Uechtland and Thurgan have already seen it. The noble Berne lifts high her lordly head, And Friburg is a fortress of the free. The active Zurich arms her corporations In war's array. The might of kings is wreck''d Against her firm and everlasting walls. [He speaks the following in the tone of a see?', and his voice is raised to the highest pitch of enthusiasm. I see the princes and the noble lords Advancing, in their panoply of steel, To war against a harmless race of herdsmen. For life and death they fight, and gloriously Is many a passage bloodily achieved. I see the Switzer rush with naked breast* * See Note D. in the Appendix. 144 WILLIAM T£LL. act iv. A willing victim on a rank of lances ; He breaks their line — down, down into the dust Doth fall the flower of a proud nobility ! And conquering freedom lifts her banner high ! [He joins together the hands q/* Walter Furst and Stauffacher. Therefore, stand fast together, fast in unity. Let all abodes of freedom be allied ; Let signal-posts be on your mountains placed, To gather quickly all the Cantons! Be United — be united — be united — [He falls back on the cushion holding their hands, even in deaths between his own. FiJRST and Stauffacher consider him some time in silence^ and then retire overwhelmed tuith grief. In the meantime some of the servants have pressed into the chamber, and approach ivith signs of silent and violent grief. Some kneel down by his side and weep over his hand. During this dumb show the bell of the Castle tolls. Enter Rudenz hastily. Lives he ? Oh, tell me ! Can yet but hear ? sen. WILLIAM TELL. 145 WALTER FURST. {with averted face.) You are our Seignior and protector now ; And now this castle hath another name. RUD. (regards the corpse with violent feelings of grief) O God ! then my repentance comes too late ! Could he not live a few pulsations longer ? Enough to see how much my heart is changed ? Oh ! I have slighted his true warning voice, While yet he wandered in the light — and now He 's gone for evermore, and left to me A heavy and an unpaid debt ! Oh say ! Died he in enmity against me ? STAUF. No; He heard while dying what you did of late, And bless'd the bravery with which you spoke. RUD. (kneels at the side of the corpse.) Yes ! holy relics of a worthy man — Body without a soul — I here make vow, — Here in thy cold dead hand, that I have rent Apart for ever all outlandish ties. At length am I restored to my nation. A Switzer am I, and I will be one With my whole soul. [Rising up. Let 's sorrow for our friend, L 146 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. Our common father — but let 's not despair. I Ve not alone inherited his land : " His heart and spirit have descended on me. My youth shall execute for you whatever His hoary age has left him in your debt. Respected fathers, give me both your hands ; And give me yours — and you too, Melchthal, yours. O do not hesitate, nor turn away ! Give credit to my oath, and to my promise. WALTER FURST. Give him your hand : his altered heart deserves Our confidence. MEL. You 've ne''er respected us ! Say, on whose party shall we reckon i/ou ? RUD. O think not on the error of my youth ! STAUF. (To Melchthal.) Come, be united ! Those were the last words Of one that was a father to us. Think On that ! MEL. Then here 's my hand }^ peasant's hand ! And even that, my noble sir, may plight A brave man's wordy/ Without us, what were the nobility ? Besides, our rank's more ancient than your own. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 147 RUD. I honour it, and I '11 protect it with My sword. MEL. That arm. Sir Baron, which subdues The stubborn earth, and makes her bosom fruitful. May also manage to protect a man. RUD. You shall give me protection — 1 11 give you : And so shall each be strengthened by the other. But wherefore talk we when our native land Is even now a prey to foreign tyrants ? When once the soil is clear of enemies, Then will we reconcile ourselves in peace. \^ After a momenfs pause. You 're silent ! Have you nought to say to me ? How ! Have I not deserved that you should trust me ? Then must I penetrate against your will The secret of your covenant. Your summons Has been sent out; — youVe sworn upon the Rootli. I know it. . I know all that you Ve done. And what you would not venture to impart, I Ve kept as if it were a holy pledge. Never was I my country's foe, believe me, And never had I worked against your weal. You 've done unwisely to delay so long. ' Time presses and needs speedy execution. L 2 148 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. Tell has already fallen sacrifice To your delay. • STAUF. We swore to wait till Christmas. RUD. / was not there, nor party to your oath. Wait then, I '11 make it my affair. MEL. You will! RUD. I count me now amongst our country's fathers, And my first duty 's to protect it. WALTER FURST. Stay ! To give these precious relics to the earth Is yet a nearer and a holier duty. RUD. When once we've set our country free, we '11 place A wreath of victory upon his bier. friends ! 'tis not your cause alone excites me, 1 have my own, to battle with the tyrants. Hear me ! and know my Bertha 's disappeared. In secret, and with daring wickedness, Has she been stolen from the midst of us I STAUF. And hath the tyrant dared such violence Against a lady free and nobly born ? RUD. Alas ! my friends, I promised you assistance ; Yet I myself must beg it first of you. Robb'd — snatch'd away from me — is my belov'd. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 149 Who knows where they Ve concealed her in their fury : What violence they Ve villainously dared, To force her heart to some abhorred engagement ! Forsake me not ! Oh help me to her rescue ! She loves you ! She 's deserved it of the land That every hand should arm in her behalf. WALTER FURST. What would you undertake ? RUD. Alas, I know not ! In this dark night which veils her destiny ; In this intense anxiety of doubt. Where nothing firm appears to fasten on. One only thing stands clear before my soul : — That we must fairly dig her into light From out the ruins of despotic power ; Therefore must every strong-hold be reduced, If we would free her from her prison-house. MEL. Come, lead us on ! We'll follow you. But why Defer till morning what may now be done ? Tell was in freedom, and this monstrous deed Undone, when we took oath upon the Rootli. ^The time is pregnant with a change of rule.^ Who is there now that could become a coward ? RUD. Meanwhile to arms. Be ready for the task. 150 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. Expect the signal fire upon the mountains : For sooner than a boat can sail the Lake, Shall you have tidings of our victory, And see us kindle up the welcome flame ; Then burst, like Heaven's lightning on the foe, And dash the work of tyranny to atoms. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A holloiu way near Kiissnach, which descends from the background between rocks, and travellers are seen on the high part of it before they come on the stage. Rocks surround the whole scene. On one of the fore- most is a projecting point covered with bushes. Enter Tell, with his cross-bow. Tell. He needs must travel through this hollow way; No other path will take him on to KUssnach. Here, then, I '11 do it. The occasion suits — Yon elder -tree will hide me from his view. From thence my bolt will surely reach him here, And the path's narrowness may mock pursuit. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 161 Make thine account with Heaven^ Governor ! Hence must thou go ; thine hour has run out ! I lived retired and inoiFensively ; At forest deer alone my bolt was aim'd ; Pure was my mind from thought of homicide ; But thou hast scared away my peace, and turn''d The milk of human tenderness within me Into fermenting dragon- venom. Thou To monstrous feelings hast accustomed me. Who strikes a mark upon his own child's head. Can strike his foe as surely to the heart ! My little ones ! my helpless innocents ! My faithful wife — am I compelled to save 'Gainst thy fell rage. In that same hour when I my bow-string drew, While my hand trembled like a leaf, and thou. With grim and devilish pleasure, mad'st me aim Against the head of my beloved child — Then as I stood before thee faint and supplicating, E'en then, internally, I swore an oath — A dreadful oath, which God alone could hear, That my next arrow's first and only mark 1621 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. Should be thy heart. The promise that I made In that short moment of infernal agony, Is as a holy debt — and /7/ discharge it ! Thou art my lord — my Emp'ror's officer ; But never had the Emperor allowed Such deeds as thine. He sent thee here to judge us, (Perhaps severely, for 'twas done in anger,) Not to regale thy murder-loving lust With crimes done wantonly, and which the law Lets pass unpunished. /But a God there is. Who lives above to punish and avenge^ [Takes out his arrow. Come forth, thou winged messenger of pain ! Thou priceless jewel ! thou unpurchasable treasure ! I '11 send thee to a spot, which, though 't hath been. Till now, impregnable to Virtue's pray'rs, -Will not be so to thee. And thou, my bow-string. That oft hath served me true in joyous sport, Play me not false to-day in fearful earnest. — Hold fast this once, thou tried and trusted string. That hast so often wing'd the pointed bolt ; For if it now escape my hand in vain, I have no second to repeat the blow. [Travellers cross over the stage. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 15.1 I ''11 seat me here upon this bench of stone, » Framed to repose the traveller awhile ; * For here ""s no human habitation. Here Doth each man pass his fellow quick and carelessly, Nor think what trouble may afflict him. Here, The careful merchant — the light truss'd-up pilgrim — The pious monk — the gloomy-hearted robber — The gay musician — and the carrier. Who hither comes, with heavy-laden horse, From far and foreign lands ; (for by each path May one approach the world's extremity,) /AU these pass on to their vocation — And mine is murder \^ \Sits down.' Once, my beloved children, when your father Went to the chase, joy waited his return ; For never came he home, but brought you something — Either an Alpine flowVet, or perchance A curious bird ; or else an Ammon's horn. Such as the traveller finds among the hills. Now goes he to far other sort of hunting. And sits him down upon a wild way-side Intent on bloodshed. Tis his foeman's life For which he lies in wait ; and yet, even now, He thinks on you alone, beloved children ! .A 'h.„ 154 WILLIAM TELL. ACT IV. For your defence, and your sweet innocence, To shield against tyrannical revenge. Will he now strain his bow — to do a murder ! [Rises. I lie in ambush for a noble quarry. The hunter shrinks not, when the winter 's hardest. To bound the whole day long from crag to crag, And climb the slipp'ry precipice, to which His own spilt blood oft helps him to adhere ; — And all to chase a miserable animal. Here is at stake a far more precious prijze — A mortal foeman's life, who seeks my ruin ! [Approaching lively music is heard at a distance. My whole life long I Ve practised the bow. And exercised me after rules of archery. Oft have I shot into the white, and oft Have I brought home full many a fair prize From sportive archer meetings. But to-day. Will I the master-shot of all perform ; And win the fairest prize that can be found Within the whole circumf 'rence of the mountains ! [A marriage procession passes over the stage, and goes off through the holloio xoay. Tell consi- ders it leaning on his how. Stussi, the Ranger, joins and accosts him. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 155 STU. That is the cloister steward of Morlischachen, Who holds the wedding feast. A wealthy man, And hath full ten good pastures on the Alps. He fetches now his bride from Imisee, And there'll be special cheer to night at Kiissnach ; So come along, each honest man 's invited. TELL. A guest like me fits ill the house of marriage. STU. Down with your sorrow, — fling it from your heart, — Take the good luck God sends you. Times are hard ; Therefore must man snatch readily at joy. Here there ""s a merry-making — there a funeral. TELL. And oft indeed the one brings on the other. STU. Why that 's the way the world goes now. Ill luck Is ever in abundance. There 's a Ruffi * Has fallen in the Glarnerland and sunk A side of Glarnish underneath it. TELL. • What ! E'en do the mountains tremble.? Nought on earth stands firm ! STU. Elsewhere men also talk of prodigies. * A sort of avalanche. 156 WILLIAM TELL. act iv, I spoke with one who came from Baden. He Related, that a knight who sought the King Was on his way assaulted by a swarm Of hornets, which so fell upon his steed, That down it sunk in torture on the ground, And he was forced to seek the King on foot. yTTELL. E'en to the weakest thing is given a sting t v Enter Armgart, with many children^ and -places herself in the entrance of the hollow way. STU. Men reckon on some national misfortune, — Some grievous and unnatural event. TELL. Such things arrive with every passing day. They need no omens to announce their coming. STU. Ay, he does well who tills his field in peace, And sits at home unvex'd by what 's around. / TELL. The best of men can not remain at peace, If any wicked neighbour will it not !/ [Tell looks often with uneasy expectation towards the upper end of the path. STU. Farewell ! You wait, perhaps, for some one here ? , TELL. Ay^ do I. STU. Prosperous return to ye ! sc. III. WtLLIAM TELL. 157 You are from Uri? Our all gracious lord The Governor ""s expected thence to day. A TRAVELLER {ivho passes.) Expect the Governor no more to day. The heavy rain has s weird the water so, That every bridge is broken by the flood. [Tell retires to the background. ARM. {coming forward.) The Governor then comes not? STU. Seek you him ? ARM. Alas, 'tis so ! STU. But wherefore place yourself Right in his way in so confined a path ? ARM. Here he can not escape. He must give ear. fries, (comes hastily down the hollow way and calls out.) Out of the way there, you ! My gracious lord The Governor rides onward, close behind. [jE^czV Tell. Arm. (in a tone of animation.) He comes ! he comes! \^She goes with her children into the foreground., Gessler and Rudolph del Harras appear at the top of the hollow way. 158 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. STU. {to Frieshart.) How came you through the water ? The stream has swept the bridges all away. FRIES. Friend, we have battled with the stormy Lake And arnH afraid of any mountain stream. STU. Were you on shipboard in that dreadful storm .^ FRIES. Ay that we were— I '11 think on 't all my life. STU. Oh stay and tell us ! FRIES. Let me go, — I must, — To make the Governor's arrival known. [Exit. STU. Had any honest men been in the ship, Do\vn she 'd. have gone, both man and mouse together ; But neither fire nor water injure these ! [He looks about him. Where went the hunter hence, with whom I spoke ? [Exit. Enter Gessler and Rudolph der Harras on horseback. G ESS. Say what you will, / am the EmpVor's servant, And I must think thereon, how I may please him. He hath not sent me to this land to flatter. And make soft speeches to the people. He Expects obedience, — and the question is. Whether the peasant or the Emperor, Shall lord it o'er the land. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 159 ARM. Now then's the moment. Now must I accost him. [She draws near timidly. GESS. Think not that I Ve set up the hat, in Altdorf, By way of pleasantry, nor yet to prove The people's heart. IVe known that long ago. I put it there that they may learn to bend To me their necks, which now they bear so stiff. 'Twas therefore that I placed this stumbling block Full in the path which they 're obliged to tread. There let them exercise their eyes vipon 't, And recollect their lord whom they Ve forgotten. HARRAS. The people have, however, well-known rights. GESS. But this is not the time to measure them. Great things are working for futurity. Th' Imperial power will grow ; and what the sire So gloriously begun, the son will finish. This petty people is but as a stone Upon our path ; and, one way or the other. It must succumb at last. [As they are about to go on^ Armgart throws her- self at the Governors feet. arm. For charity. Lord Governor, have mercy ! mercy ! 160 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. GESS. Why do you stop me in the public road ? Back ! back ! . ARM. My husband 's in confinement. And these poor orphans cry for bread. Dread Sir, Have pity on our grievous misery ! HARRAS. Who then are you, and who may be your husband ? ARM. A poor Wildheur, Sir, from Rigiberge,* Who mows, upon the precipice's edge. The grass that grows all wild among the rocks, Where e'en the cattle do not dare to climb. HARRAS. By heav'n ! a wretched piteous existence. I pray you. Sir, to let the poor man loose. E'en had he heavily offended you. His daily work were punishment enough. [lb Armgart. You shall have justice. On towards the castle. Make there your prayer. Here is not the place. ARM. No, no ! I never will depart from hence Till he has giv'n my husband back to me. 'Tis now six months since he 's been in the tower, In vain expecting sentence from his judge. * The Wildheur is a man who mows the grass upon the waste. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 161 GESS. What ! would you do me violence ? Away ! ARM. Justice, Lord Governor! Our judge art thou, Placed here to represent the Emperor. Do then thy duty; and as thou dost hope Justice from Heav'n, so show it unto us ! GESS. Off ! Take these daring people from my sight ! ARM. (taking hold of his bridle.) No, no ! I now have nothing more to lose. Thou shalt not leave this place till I have had Thy promise to release him. Bend thy brow And roll thy eyeballs if thou wilt, for we Are so completely wretched that we care But little-for thy anger ! GESS. Woman, hence ! Or else my steed goes over thee. ARM. Then let it ! — Let it go over me. — There ! [She throws her children on the ground and casts herself down with them in his way. Here I lie — Here with my children. Let the guiltless orphans Be trodden underneath thy horse''s foot — It will not be the worst that thou hast done ! H ARRAS. Woman, thou 'rt raving mad ! M 162 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. ARM. The Emp'ror's land Thou long hast trampled underneath thy feet ! Alas ! I 'm but a woman ! Were I man, I might, perhaps, know better how to act, Than here to lie beseeching in the dust ! [The music is again heard, indistinctly^ in the higher part of the way. GESS. Where are my servants ? Tear her hence, or I May chance forget myself, and do a deed Which I shall rue ! HARRAS. Your servants can't come on ; The hollow way is blocked up by a wedding ! GESS. A far too lenient Governor am I Towards this people. Free are yet their tongues. They are not quite subdued, as soon they shall be. A change shall yet take place, I promise ye — I '11 break this stiff unyielding disposition — I '11 curb this daring sense of liberty. — I'll \An arrow strikes him. He puts his hand to his heart, and says in a faint voice. May God have mercy on me ! HARRAS. - What was that ? Lord Governor — Good God ! from whence came that .'' sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 163 ARM. {rising up.) He reels ! He sinks ! They Ve shot him ! Murder ! murder ! HARRAS. {springs from his horse.) Oh, horrid acci- dent !~Good God ! Sir Knight, Call on HeavVs mercy quickly, for you Ve in The grasp of death ! GESS. That arrow came from Tell ! [He slides down from his horse into the arms of Rudolph der Harras, and is laid softly *07i the bench, TELL, (appearing on the top of the cliff.) Thou know'st the hand that shot it — seek no other. Free are our hearths — secure is innocence — Thou wilt, at least, no more infest the land ! [Disappears over the top of the cliff., people enter hastily. STU. (who is foremost of the party.) Why, what's the matter here ? What 's taken place ? arm. The Governor has just been shot to death. PEOPLE (bursting in.) Who ? who 's been shot ? [ While the foremost of the bridal party come in, the hindmost are seen on the high part of the hollow way, and the music proceeds. M 2 164 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. HARRAS. He bleeds to death. Forth — get assistance ! —After the assassin ! Unhappy man, and must thy end be thus ? Alas ! thou would 'st not hearken to my warning ! STU. By God ! he lies there pale and lifeless. MANY VOICES. Who Hath done the deed ? HARRAS. What ! are the people mad ? To play their music at a murder ! Stop it ! [ The music breaks abruptly off and more people enter. Speak, if you can, Sir, is there nothing more That you 'd confide to me ! [Gessler makes a sign with his hand, which not being understood, he repeats with violence. Where would you that I went. To Kiissnach ? I conceive you not. Be not impatient ; leave the things of earth, And try to reconcile yourself with Heav''n. [ The whole of the marriage company stand round the dying man. STU. Oh, see how pale he is !— Now, now, comes death And preys upon his heart. His eyes are sightless. sc. III. WILLIAM TELL. 166 ARM. (lifts up her child,) See, children, how a wicked man departs ! HARRAS. Off! frantic women ! Have ye no compassion That thus you stare on such a horrid sight ? Help there ! Take hold of him. Stands no one here To draw the fatal arrow from his breast ? WOMEN {receding.) We touch the man whom Hea- ven's wrath has struck ! HARRAS. May curses and damnation strike ye ! \^Draws his sword, STU. (holds his arm.) Hold ! Don't venture it, your reign is at an end. The tyrant of the land has fallen, and we '11 bear No farther violence ; — for we are free ! ALL (tumultuouslT/.) The land is free ! HARRAS. And is it come to this r Fear and submission — end they then so soon ? [To the men-at-arms who enter. You see the cruel deed of death that here Hath been committed. Help is all in vain. 'Twere useless to pursue the murderer. And other cares oppress us. On to Kussnach, That we may save the Emperor a fortress ; 166 WILLIAM TELL. act iv. For now all order, every bond of duty Is loose, and no man's truth is to be trusted. [Exit with the men-at-arms. While they are going off six Monks of the order of the Charity appear. ARM. Room for the Brothers of the Charity. STU. There lies the victim ! — Here come down the ravens ! MONKS OF THE CHARITY, (who form a half circle round the dead man, and chant in a deep tone.) Death presses on us with a rapid pace. Nor respite gives the soul ; Attacks man oft when half performed his race, And oft when he 's attained its farthest goal ; Prepared or not, he must away, To stand a culprit on the Judgement day. [ Whilst they repeat the last lines the curtain falls. WILLIAM TELL. 167 ACT y. SCENE L An open place in Altdorf. In the foreground of the right side, the Dungeon of Uri, with the scaffolding yet standing as it was in the Third Scene of First Act. On the left are seen many mountains with signaljires burning on them. It is just day-break and bells are heard at different points in the distance. RuoDi, KuoNi, Werni, Master Stone-cutter, and others, men, women, and children. RUODI. See you the beacons flaming in the moun- tains ? STONE-CUTTER. Hear you the bells there, over- right the wood ? RUODI. Chased are our foes. STEIN. The castles are subdued. RUODI. Shall we then still in Uri tolerate That castle of the tyrant on our soil ? Shall we the last of all proclaim our freedom ? STONE-CUTTER. Shall that yoke stand, that was to bend our necks ? Up ! let us tear it to the ground I 168 WILLIAM TELL. act v. ALL. Ay, come ! Let 's pull it down ! let 's have it to the ground ! RUODI. Where is the Stier of Uri ? STIER. Here ! What shall I ? RUODI. Climb to the highest watch tow'r, blow your horn. That its wide spreading tone may o 'er the hills Be heard, and every echo that it wakes Among the rocky cliffs, may quickly call The mountaineers together. [Exit Stier. Enter Walter Furst. Hold my friends ! As yet have we no news of what 's been done In Switz and Underwald. First let 's await The messengers. RUODI. And why ? The tyrant 's dead. The day of freedom dawns ! STONE-CUTTER. Is 't not enough To see those flaming messengers around us. Blaze out their news on every mountain top ? RUODI. Come all, come lend your hands, both men and women ! Down with the scaffolds ! break in every arch ! sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 169 Tear down the walls, till not one stone shall rest Upon another. STONE-CUTTER Comrades, let 's to work ! We that have built it up, at least should know The way to pull it down. ALL. Ay ! down with ""t ! — come ! [They rush on every side towards the building. WALTER FURST. The chase is up. I cannot hold it back. Enter Melchthal and Baumgarten. MEL. What ! stands the castle yet while Sarnen lies In ashes, and while Rossburg is in ruins ? WALTER FURST. Are i/OM here, Melchthal ? Bring you liberty ? Say, are the Cantons cleans''d of enemies ? MEL. {embraces him) Pure is our soil. Rejoice, my aged friend, In this same moment that we talk together. No tyrant breathes throughout all Switzerland ! WALTER FURST. Say, how did you obtain the for- tresses ? MEL. ^Twas Rudenz who, by hazardous adventure And manly boldness, won the Castle Sarnen. 170 WILLIAM TELL. ACT V. For Rossberg— I the night before had scaled Its walls. But hear what happened. As we cleared The castle of the foe, and as we kindled up A joyful flame, that, crackling smote the heav'n, Diethelm, the page of Gessler, rushed thereout, Crying that Bruneck's heiress would be burnt. WALTER FURST. Just God ! [The noise of the scaffolds falling is heard. MEL. ^Twas she herself, who secretly Had been shut up there by the Governor. Then up rose Rudenz like one mad ; for we Already heard the beams and posts give way, And forth from out the smoke the wailing voice Of that unfortunate. WALTER FURST. But she was rescued.^ MEL. Courage and quickness were of value there. Had he been nothing but our feudal lord, Perhaps we might have lov'd our lives too well. But he was our confederate, and his Bertha Respects the people ; so we waited not — We set our lives upon 't, and on we rush'd To seek her in the fire ! WALTER FURST. But she was saved? MEL. Ay ! Rudenz and myself sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 171 Bore her, between us, safely from the flames, While joist and rafter crackling fell behind ; And when she knew herself from danger free, And lifted up her eyes to Heav'n above, 'Twas then the Baron feU upon my breast, And silently was an attachment sworn. Which hardened in the fire's glowing heat, 4 Will stand unchangM mid every change of fortune ! WALTER FURST. But where 's the Landenburger ? MEL. O'er the Brunig. Oh lay it not on me, that he who took My father's eyesight, bore away his own. I followed him — I took him in the flight— I dragg'd him off* to where my father stood ; Already o'er him waved my sword, and yet It fell not ; for his blinded victim's mercy Heard him implore, and granted him his life. He swore an oath * that he 'd return no more, And he'll observe it — for he 's felt our arm. • In the original — " Urphede schwur er." The Urphede was a particular sort of oath. When a man was at feud with another, and invaded his lands, and was worsted, he often made terms with his enemy by swearing the Urphede, whereby he bound himself to depart and never to return with a hostile intention. 172 WILLIAM TELL. act v. WALTER furst/ 'Twas well, 'twas well ! Your victory was pure - From blood pollution. / CHILDREN. (Hastening over the stage, ivith pieces of the scaffolding.) Freedom ! freedom ! freedom I [ The horn of Uri is blown loudly. WALTER FURST. See what a holiday ! The child- ren all Will recollect it to their latest hour. [Girls bring in the hat on a pole, and the whole scene is filled with people. RUODI. Here comes the hat to wliich they made us bow ! BAUM. Give us the order. What shall be its fate ? WALTER FURST. My God, 'twas under this my grandson stood ! MANY VOICES. Destroy that monument of despotism. Into the fire with 't ! WALTER FURST. No ; preserve it rather. ""Twas late the instrument of tyranny ; Hereafter let it be the sign of Freedom ! [Men, women, and children, stand and sit on the beams of the destroyed scaffolding. They group themselves together in a picturesque half circle. SCI. WILLIAM TELL, 173 MEL. Thus stand we now rejoicing on the wreck Of tyranny ! and gloriously have we Fulfiird the oath we swore upon the Rootli. WALTER FURST. The work 's begun ; but 'tis not yet complete. We Ve need of valour now and firm adherence ; For be assured the King will not delay To take deep vengeance for the death of Gessler, Aiid with an armed force bring back the fugitives. MEL. Let him come on then, with his armed legions. Now that the foe is driven from within, We 11 find a way to manage him without. RUODL The passes that the land affords are few, And these we 11 bravely cover with our bodies. BAUM. Eternally are we united now. And all his armies shall not make us quail. Enter Rozelman and Stauffacher. ROZ. {Entering.) That, that indeed, was Heaven's fearful judgment ! PEOPLE. What is 1 ? What news ? ROZ. In what a time we live ! WALTER FURST. Say on. What is it.? Ha! are you here, Werner ? What brings you here ? 174 WILLIAM TELL. act v. PEOPLE. What is it ? ROZ. Hear and wonder ! STAUF. From one great evil are we scarcely freed — ROZ. The Emperor's been murder'd ! WALTER FURST. Gracious God ! [ The people press tumultuously round STA.UF. ALL. Been murder"'d ! What ! the Emperor been murder'd ! MEL. Impossible ! How came you by the news ? STAUF. 'Tis surely true. King Albert fell at Bruch Beneath his murderer's hand. A credit-worthy man, Johannes MuUer, brought it from ShafFhausen. - WALTER FURST. Who dared commit a deed so horrible ? STAUF. 'Twas yet more horrible through him that did it. His nephew was it — his own brother's child, Duke John of Swabia, who murdered him. MEL. What drove him to that deed of parricide ? STAUF. He was impatient — eager to possess His patrimonial inheritance, Which, as they say, the Emperor withheld. Thinking to find a mitre for the Duke ; And so, to cut the matter short at once. sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 175 The young Duke listen'd to the wicked counsel Of his companions in arms, ' tis said, And with the noble lords of Eschenbach, Of Tagerfield, and those of Wart and Palm, Determined he, as justice was denied, To take deep vengeance with his proper hands. WALTER FURST. But tell US how the cruel deed was done ? STAUF. The King was journeying from Stein to Baden, TVards Rhinfeld, where his court was held ; The Princes John and Leopold were with him, Together with a suite of high-born gentlemen. And when they reached the river Reus, — just where Its stream is traversed by a pubUc ferry, — The murderers throng'^d all into the boat. To separate the Emp'ror from his suite ; And as he landed, and was riding through A corn-field, where a great and ancient city Once stood, and flourished in Pagan times, — (Old Hapsburg's castle too within his sight. From which his high-born race derive their name) There the Duke plunged a dagger in his throat ; Rudolph of Palm transfixed him with his lance, 176 WILLIAM TELL. act v. And Eschenbach so smote him on the head. That down he sank expiring in his blood, Murdered by * kinsmen on his own domain. Those on the other side beheld the deed ; But parted from him by the rapid stream, They could but raise a powerless cry of woe. Close to the spot there sat a peasants wife. And in her lap expired the Emperor. MEL. Thus hath he dug himself an early grave. Who, never satisfied, would grasp at all. STAUF. A monstrous horror reigns around the land. Shut up is every pass upon the mountains, And every place secures its boundaries, — Ay, e'en the ancient Zurich shuts her gates. Which have not closed for thirty years. All fear The murderers, — but still more the avenger ! For hither, armed with the church's ban. Comes on, stern Agnes, the Hungarian Queen, Who ne'er hath known the softness of her sex. To wreak her vengeance upon every one That counts him kindred with the murderers, Their serfs, their children, and their children's children, — * The literal translation of the original is — " Murdered by his own upon his own." sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 177 Ay, e'en the very stones that form their castles ! Whole generations hath she made a vow To immolate upon her father's grave. And bathe herself in blood, as if 'twere dew ! MEL. Is't known which way the murderers have gone ? STAUF. They fled immediately the deed was done. They took five roads, distinct from one another. And separated never more to meet — Duke John is wandering among the mountains. WALTER FURST. So then their crime hath not pro- duced them fruit. ^ Revenge bears never fruit. It feeds upon Its fear-inspiring self ! Its meal is death, and its contentment horror.^/ STAUF. '^The deed hath brought the murderers no profit. ^ I But we may reap, with unpolluted hand, A blessed harvest from their bloody crime ; For we're deliver'd from a grievous fear. The greatest foe to liberty is fall'n. The realm asserts, its freedom to elect ; And now, 'tis said, the sceptre will go forth From Hapsburg's family to other hands. . N 178 WILLIAM TELL. act v- WALTER FURST, and others. But heard you aught ? STAUF The Count of Luxemburg Is named by a majority of voices. WALTER FURST. 'Tis well that we've stood truly by the Realm. Now may we hope for justice ! STAUF. Our present lord hath need of valiant friends. He '11 shelter us from Austria's revenge. Enter Sacrist with an Imperial-courier. SACRIST. Here are the worthy chiefs of Switzerland. Roz. and others. Sacrist what is 't .^ SACRIST. The Courier brings this writing. ALL. (To Walter Furst) Break, and read it. WALTER FURST. (reads) " To the worthy men Of Uri, Switz, and Underwald, the Queen EHzabeth sends grace and every good." MANY VOICES. What would the Queen ? Her reign is out, I trow ! WALTER FURST. (reads) " Amid the anguish of a widow's grief. In which the bloody murder of her lord sc. I. WILLIAM TELL. 179 Hath plunged the Queen, she yet remembers well The ancient faith and love of Switzerland." MEL. She never thought of that in her prosperity. ALL. Peace ! let us hear ! WALTER FURST. (reads) " And she 's persuaded that her faithful people Will manifest a proper detestation Of all the cursed doers of the deed : And therefore she expects it of the Cantons, That they will not abet the murderers, But rather loyally bestow their help, To give them into the avenger'*s hand, Holding in mind the ancient love and favour, Which they 've received of Rudolph's royal House.'* MANY VOICES. The love and favour ! STAUF. We have, indeed, had favour from the father; But what have we to boast of from the son ? Has he confirmed the charter of our freedom, Like every Emperor that 's reigned before him ? Did he e'en wish to hear the messenger. Whom we dispatched to tell him our distress ? Not one of all these things has e'er the King Performed for us ; and had we not ourselves N 2 180 WILLIAM TELL. act v. Procured us justice with our own good hands, Our peril ne'er had moved his heart/ Thank him I Thanks has he never planted in our dales. He stood pre-eminently high ; he could Have been a father to our people ; but It pleased him for his own alone to care. Let those whom he enriched, bewail his fate^^ WALTER FURST. We will not triumph in his fall, nor yet Remember now the evil we Ve received : Far, far be that from us. But to revenge The death of him who never did us good^ And harass those who never did us harm. Were neither due nor fitting. /Xove must be A voluntary sacrifice^and death Releases us from services constrained. All such are now for ever satisfied. MEL. And weeps the widow'd Queen in her retire- ment, And doth she weary Heav'n with her woe ? — So see you here a people, freed from anguish, E'en to the self-same Heav'n returning thanks. — / He that would gather tears, must sow affection L/ [Exit. Courier, sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 181 STAUF. (To the people.) But Tell! where 's he, The founder of our freedom ? Shall he alone be wanting ? He hath done The best of all — endured the hardest fate. Come on, then, come — let ""s forward to his house, To greet the brave deliverer of us all. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The interior of TelPs house. Afire blazes on the hearth. The open door shows the country without. Hedwig, Walter, and Wilhelm. Hed. To-day returns your father. Dearest children, He lives — is free— and we, and all, are free; And 'tis your father that hath saved the land. WALTER. And I Ve done something ako for it, mother. I must be mentioned ; for my father's bolt Went near my life, and yet I did not tremble. HED. Oh yes ! and thou, thou also art restored. Twice have I borne thee — twice endured for thee A mother's pang ! 182 WILLIAM TELL. act v. But now 'tis past, and I possess ye both Both ! and your father will return to-day ! [A Monk appears at the door. WIL. See, mother, see ! there stands a pious Monk. He 's here perhaps to ask our charity. HED. Go, lead him in, that he may be revived. He feels that he has reached the house of joy. WIL. (to the Monk.) Come in, good man. My mother '11 give you food. WALTER. Come in and rest, that you regain your strength. MONK, (looking round him, as if afraid.) Where am I ? Tell me. In what country ? WALTER. What ! You Ve lost your way then if you don't know that You are in Burglen, sir, and in the land Of Uri, on the road to Schachenthal. MONK (to H ED WIG, ivho comes back.) Are you alone? Your husband — where is he ? HED. I now expect him. Wherefore do you ask ? You hide your face as if you brought no good ; But whosoe'er you be, you 're needy. Take it. [Offers him a cup.. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 183 MONK. Howe'er my heart may long for nourishment, Nought may I touch till you have promised me — [Lays his hand on her. HED. Touch not my garment, nor approach me nearer. Stand at a distance, if you 'd have me hear. MONK. By this same fire which hospitably blazes ; By these dear children's heads which thus I — [Attempts to place his hand on the children'' s heads. HED. Man, What mean ye ? Back ! stand farther from my children. You are no Monk. You know that you are none. Within this habit peace should find a home ; But peace ne''er dwells in features such as yours. MONK. I am the most unfortunate of men. HED. Misfortune's voice ne'er fails to touch the heart ; But yours doth make it shudder to its core. WALTER, (running out.) Here, here comes father ! HED. Oh, great God ! [She offers to follow him, but trembles and stops. WIL. Dear father ! [Hastens after his brother. WAtTER (without.) Here he 's come back again ! WIL. (without.) O dearest father ! 1S4 WILLIAM TELL. act V. TELL, (without.) Ay, that I am. But where 's your mother, boys ? [They enter. WALTER. She stands there at the door, and can't come farther, She trembles so with fearfulness and joy ! TELL, {embracing her.) O Hedwig, Hedwig, mother of my children — 'Twas God that helped me, and no tyrant more Shall ever part us. HED. (throwing her arms about his neck.) O beloved TeU ! What agony have I endured for thee. [Monk listens attentively. TELL. Forget the past, and live alone for joy. Here am I hsxh again, and on my own hearth I stand once i r^ nong My Own. WIL. But where, Dear father, hast thou put away thy bow.? I see it not. TELL. Thou It never see it more ; 'Tis now secure within a holy shrine ; It never more will serve me in the chase ! HED. (recedes and lets fall his hand.) Oh, Tell ! sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 186 TELL. Why, what alarms thee, dearest wife ? HED. How, how art thou come back to me ? This hand — Dare I take hold of it, — this hand, O God ! — TELL. Has been your safeguard and the land's salvation ! Freely to Heaven I can lift it up. [The Monk makes a sudden movement. Tell sees him. What Monk is here ? HED. Ah ! I 'd forgot him quite. Speak thou to him. His presence makes me shrink. MONK {approaches.) Are you that Tell, who slew the Governor ? TELL. The same: from no man would I hide the deed. MONK. You are that Tell!— 'T was then the hand of God. That here directed me beneath your roof. TELL. You are no Monk. Who are you ? MONK. You struck down The Governor who did you wrong ; — and I Have slain a foe who would not do me right. He was your enemy as well as mine. And I have freed the land of him. 186 ^ WILLIAM TELL. act v. TELL, {starts back.) You are — Amazement ! — Children, children, go away : Go, dearest wife ! Go ! go ! — Unfortunate You are HED. My God, who is it ? TELL. Do not ask. Go, go! the children must not hear it spoken. Go from the' house — away, thou must not dwell One moment underneath a roof with him ! HED. Alas ! what is it ? — Come ! [Exit with the children, TELL, {to the Monk.) You are the Duke Of S>vabia. You are. You slew the Emperor, Your uncle and your Suzerain ! JOHANNES PARRICIDA. He was The robber of my heritage ! TELL. Your uncle— Your Emperor you^ve slain ; and yet the earth Supports you, and the sun doth light you still ! PAR. Tell, hear me ere you — TELL. Dripping with blood Of parricide and regicide, dar'st thou Set foot within my unpolluted house ? sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 187 Dar'st thou appear before an honest man, To ask the rights of hospitality ? PAR. With you I hoped to find some charity.— You too took vengeance on your foe. TELL. Unfortunate ! Wilt thou confound ambition's blood-guilt With what a father did in life's defence ! Hast thou protected a beloved child, Or stood to guard thy house's sanctuary ? Hast thou averted, from thy flesh and blood, The greatest and the last of horrid fates ? To Heaven above I lift my guiltless hands, And curse thee and thy deed. I did but vindicate The holy ties of home and nature. Thou Hast shamed them all— we 've nought in common. Thou Hast murder'd ! /—my dearest — ^have protected ! PAR. You thrust me from you helpless and des- pairing. TELL. I shudder while I speak to thee — away ! Go ! wander on thy fearful pilgrimage. Stain not the home where innocence resides. PAR. {turning as if to go) I cannot, will not live another hour ! 188 WILLIAM TELL. act v. TELL. And yet I pity thee. Good God of Heav'n ! . So young, from such a noble family, King Rudolph^s grandson, flying and denounced, Assassin of my Lord and Emperor, Here at a poor man's door imploring in despair ! [He covers his face with his hand. PAR. Oh, if you ever wept, let my sad fate Call forth your tears, for it is terrible. I am a Prince, at least I was, and might Have been a happy one, had I but known To place restraint on my impatient wishes. I saw my youthful cousin Leopold, Covered with honour, recompensed with land ; And I, although of equal age with him. Was held in slavish wardship ! TELL. Unhappy man, thy Uncle knew thee well, When he refused to give thee land and people. Thou hast thyself, by this wild wayward deed. Fearfully justified his wise resolve. Where are the bloody helpers of thy crime ? PAR. Where'er the demon of revenge has led them. I saw them not since that ill-fated act. TELL. Know'st thou a ban pursues thee, and that thou SC. II. WILLIAM TELL. 189 Art interdicted to thy friends, and given up An outlawed victim to thy enemies ? PAR. And therefore I avoid all public roads ; Nor dare I knock at any cabin door. I turn my steps towards the wilderness — All horror-strtick I wander through the mountains, And start back shuddVing, from my very self. Whene'er a brook reflects my wretched image. Oh ! if you Ve pity and humanity [Falls at Tell's feet. TELL. Stand up ! stand up ! PAR. No ! not till you Ve stretched out your hand to help me. TELL. Can I assist you ? I, a sinful man ! But up/ although youVe done so foul a deed, YouVe still a man ! I also am no more ! From Tell shall no one part uncomforted — Whatever I may, 111 do^/' PAR. (springing up, and grasping his hand with vio- lence.) (), Tell, you've snatch'd my soul From desperation ! TELL. Let my hand go free. You must be gone ; for undetected here 190 WILLIAM TELL. act v. You can't remain, and were you once detected, You could not reckon on protection. Where will you go ? Where hope you for repose ? PAR. Alas ! I know not. TELL. Hear then what God hath whisper 'd to my heart. Go forward into Italy, towards St. Peter's city. There, when you're arrived. Throw yourself down before the Pope, and make Confession of your guilt, and free your soul. PAR. Will he not give me up to the avenger ? TELL. Whatever he do, receive it as from God. PAR. How shall I reach a land to me unknown .^ I Ve no experience of the way, nor dare I join the company of travellers. TELL. I'll point you out the way. Observe me well! You must ascend along the river Reus, Which down the mountains headlong flings its stream — PAR. The Reus ! 'Twas done upon its banks. TELL. Your way Lies o'er the precipice, and many a cross Betokens it, erected in remembrance Of travellers entombed beneath the snow drift. sc. II. WILLIAM TELL. 191 PAR. I fear not nature's horrors, could I once But tame the wild affliction of my heart. TELL, Before each cross fall down and expiate, With hot repentant tears, your wickedness ; And should you 'scape the dangers of the way. And should the snow drift, from the frozen ridge Of some high mountain, overwhelm you not, You'll gain at length the Bridge which you must dust!* And if it break not down beneath the weight Of your offence — if e'er you pass it o'er, — You' 11 find a gloomy portal in a rock. Which day-light never enters. Go through that 'Twill lead you to a happy vale of peace. Hasten across it. Give your foot no rest, Yar you may not remain where peace resides. PAR. O Rudolph, Rudolph, royal ancestor. Thus is thy grandson doom'd to quit thy Realm ! TELL. Keep on ascending till you reach the height Of Gothardt, where the everlasting lakes, Fill'd by the streams of Heav'n, are situate. There will you bid farewell to German earth. Another river's swiftly flowing current. * This is the celebrated pont du diable. To dust it was an act of humility which pilgi'ims to Rome did by way of penance. 192 WILLIAM TELL. act v. Will lead you on to Italy, for you The land of promise. [ The cowherds' melody is heard blown on the Alpine horn. Forth ! Begone ! I hear Approaching voices. Go ! HED. (hastens in.) Where art thou, Tell.? My father comes. The sworn-confederates, all In joyous company, draw near. PAR. (cowls himself.) Alas ! I dare not stop to look on happiness. TELL. Go, dearest wife, and give this man refresh- ment. Fail not to load him richly with donations : His way is long, and he will find no harbour. Haste, for they come. HED. Who is he? TELL. Do not ask ! And when he goes, do thou avert thine eyes, That they may not e'en see which way he wanders. [Parricida makes a rapid movement towards Tell, ^vho signs to him with his hand to go. Both go off at different sides, and the WILLIAM TELL. I93 LAST SCENE exposes the 2vhole valley before TelTs house^ loith the surrounding hills covered with people, form- ing one large group, while others come forward over a high mountain-bridge luhich leads across the cliff's, Walter Furst, with the two boys, Melchthal, and Stauffacher come forward. Others press after them. As soon as Tell appears he is received with loud shouts of joy. all. Tell ! Long live Tell! the archer — the redeemer! [While the foremost press around Tell and em- brace him, Rudenz and Bertha appear. The latter embraces Hedwig. The music from the mountain accompanies this dumb show. When it is ended. Bertha comes forward into the centre of the people. bertha. Receive me, countrymen and sworn con- federates, A party to your Bond. The first shall I Of happy maidens be, that here have found A shelter in the land of liberty. I place my rights in your courageous hands. Will you defend me as your countrywoman? 194 WILLIAM TELL. ALL. Ay, that we will, with land and blood : BERTHA. Agreed ! Thus to this noble youth I give my hand, A free Swiss maiden to as free a man. RUD. And I acknowledge all my vassals free. [The music suddenly recommences and the curtain falls. NOTES. o 2 NOTES. Note A. ** Enter Tell with a cross-bow.'' — Page 10. All that is clearly known of Tell's history may be related in a few words. He was a free born native of the Canton of Uri, a skilful steersman, an expert hunter, an unerring archer, and a warm friend of freedom. Having refused to pay servile reverence to a hat, which Herman Gessler, the Governor of Uri, had set up in the streets of Altdorf as an emblem of the arbitrary power claimed by his sovereign ; and having hastily expressed his mind so as to make him suspected of being dangerous to the Government, he was secured and led off by the Governor in person to the Castle of Kussnach. As they pursued their way across the Wald- stattensee, there came suddenly from the gorge of St. Gothardt a violent Fohn wind, which menaced all with instant destruction. The Governor, terrified at the peril of his situation, ordered that Tell, the most able helmsman on board, should be unchained, and that he should take the rudder. Tell obeyed, and steered the ship along, till they 198 NOTES. came to a flat shelf of rocks which ran out into the lake. There, by a sudden effort, he sprang on shore, clambered over the adjoining mountain, and escaped. The Governor, finding the storm inclined to abate, continued his voyage, and landed near Kiissnach. His road onwards lay through a hollow way. There Tell lay in wait for him, and, as he approached, shot him dead with an arrow on the very spot where now stands the Chapel built in commemoration of the deed. This was done in the latter part of the year 1307, and apparently without any connexion with the confederates who in the early part of the following year delivered Switzerland from the Austrian yoke. It was, however, a welcome event throughout all the Cantons, and procured its author much esteem and reputation amongst his countrymen. The circumstance of Tell having been compelled to shoot at an apple on his son's head, has been much called in ques- tion ; and if not untrue, is certainly not supported by suffi- cient proof to make it pass current as an historical fact. J. Muller, whose History of the Swiss Confederation is highly esteemed, wholly omits to notice it. Zschocke, in- deed, mentions it, but without citing any authority. It seems to rest entirely on the evidence of traditions and old ballads, to which may be added the two rudely carved old stone figures mentioned by Madame de Stael in her ^' Ger- many," Vol. 1. c. 19. NOTES. 199 Tell is believed to have perished in the great flood which desolated Burglen in the year 1354, forty-seven years after the death of Gessler ; so that at the time of that event he must have been but a young man. He appears to have died worth a considerable property, which was inherited by his descendants. His two sons, Walter and Wilhelm, were named Von Klingenberg, probably from a fief so called which they held. The male part of his family became extinct in 1684, in the person of John Martin Tell Von Attinghausen ; but how the fief of Attinghausen came into the family is not known. The last of his female descen- dants died in 1720. — See the History of Muller, Book I. c. 18, notes, 221 — 225. Also the History of Zschocke. Note B, page 40. As the reader may be curious to know what the Bond of Confederation, so often spoken of in the foregoing Play, really was, I have inserted the following translation of the oldest known document relating to it. The original, which is in Latin and German, is dated in the year of God 1291, in the beginning of the month of August, and is under the seals of the whole of the men of Switz, the commonalty of the dale of Uri and the whole of the men of the upper and lower vales of Stanz. It lay for a long time forgotten and undiscovered, till in 1760, Mr. Glasser, of Ball, made it 200 NOTES. known to the world in his dissertation Circa Helvetiorum Fusdera. THE BOND. Be it known to every one, that the men of the Dale of Uri, the community of Switz, as also the men of the moun- tains of Underwald, in consideration of the evil times, have full confidently bound themselves and sworn to help each other with all their power and efforts, property and people, against all who may do violence against them or any of them. That is our Ancient Bond. Whoever hath a Seignior, let him obey according to the conditions of his service. We are agreed to receive into these dales no Judge who is not a countryman and indweller, or who hath bought his place. Every controversy amongst the sworn confederates shall be settled by some of the most prudent of them, and if any one challenge their judgment then shall he be constrained [to obey it] by the rest. Whosoever intentionally or deceitfully kills another, shall for such wickedness be executed, and whoever shelters him shall be banished. Whoever burns the property of another shall no longer be considered as a countryman, and whoever shelters him, shall make good the damage done. NOTES. 201 Whoever injures another or robs him, and hath property in our country, shall make satisfaction out of the same. No one shall distrain a debtor without a Judge, nor even any one who is not his debtor or the surety for such debtor. Every one in these dales shall submit to the Judge, or we the sworn confederates all will take satisfaction for all the injury occasioned by his contumacy. And if in any internal division the one party will not accept justice, all the rest shall help the other party. These decrees shall (if God be willing) endure eternally for our general benefit. — See Muller's History, Book I. cap. 10, and note 43. Note C. The Landes Gemcinde, or Diet of the Cantons, was formerly held by all three together. Since it has been held by each separately. The Diet of Switz is convened biennially on the last Sunday in April. That of Uri takes place annually. The following description of it is extracted from ** Lettret sur la Suisse, par M. Raoul Rochette" — Vol. S, let. xxiii. At the distance of half a league from Altdorf, on the road which leads to the valley of Schaken or the Schaken- thai, and at the foot of the mountains which command the entrance of it, and in a circular area, is the place where the Landes Gemeinde, or national Diet, is held. Benches, placed gradually one above another, receive the citizens, of every age and condition, who come to take part in the delibera- 202 NOTES. ' tion. The children are placed in the centre to receive, under the eyes of their fathers, the first lessons and the first examples of republican virtue. The women, the weak- ness of whose sex prevents them from taking part in so important an assembly, accompany their fathers and hus- bands there with their prayers, and although placed at a distance, their presence adds to this assembly of a free people, the interesting appearance of a family holiday. In a vacant space, in the middle of the area, is a table, on which are placed the books of law, the seal of state, and the keys of the archives, enclosed ini a black and yellow bag, those being the colours of the Canton. On the same table is also offered to the veneration of the people, one of those ancient swords with which the citizens of Uri acquired and defended their liberty ; and this sword forms at the present day, the pacific sceptre of the Landamman. At the moment when the sounds of national music an- nounce the approach of their magistrates, the assembled people rise up to receive them. At the head of these walks the Landamman, and behind him, in the order of their ages and dignities, the ancient Landammen, the members of the Council, the Secretaries of State, and the Ushers. A pro- found silence suddenly pervades the assembly. The Chief of the Republic opens the session by a speech, in which he briefly enumerates the chief acts of his administration, and which he terminates by inviting the people to implore the NOTES. ^0g light of Heaven before occupying themselves with the affairs submitted to their examination. After their devotion is concluded, business is proposed and discussed in order. The people express their opinions according to rank and seniority ; for the rights of age are sacred amongst this people, who respect old men as the living archives of their history, and who have not yet thought fit to deliver over their councils to the ardour of imprudent youth. If when the magistrates have announced and moved their propositions no one amongst the people demands to be heard, an usher, placed on a sort of elevated bench, invites the assembly to manifest its opinion, which is done by raising the hand as a mark of approbation, and the same usher then declares the majority of votes. It is not until after the different measures proposed by the council, and the other business, have been entirely disposed of, that they proceed to the election of new magistrates. Each of the old ones comes forward according to the rank of his office to resign into the hands of the people the powers which he received from them ; thus the last act of this paternal authority is to pay homage to the source from which it emanated. It is rarely the case that the gratitude which the magistrate testifies on such an occasion is not instantly followed by a similar sentiment on the part of the assembly; and the noisy and tumultuous proofs of the satis- faction of a whole people become at once, for the citizen 204 NOTES. who receives them, a reward for the good he has done, and for those who have participated in it a source of salutary emulation. Each magistrate having thus resigned his office, and quitted his seat to re-enter the mass of the citizens, the Government may be said to have disappeared and the sove- reign authority to reside in the people now about to confer it anew. The moment which follows the retreat of the magistrates" is the only one favourable to licentiousness, and the people sometimes profit by it to give themselves up to disorderly movements, which are here but a rude imitation of un- restrained liberty, or rather but a parody on it. But this imitation has even its dangers, and they hasten to abridge its course in order not to leave true liberty too long exposed to licence. A solitary usher standing, if one may say so, on the ruins of the ancient Government, demands in a loud voice, addressing himself to the last Landamman, what citizen he designs for his successor, and the majority of votes, gathered from mouth to mouth, even including the lowest ranks of the people, proclaim the new chief of the Republic. If any virtuous and capable citizen has been forgotten in this distribution of suffrages, any member of the assembly may be heard in his favour ; and there are instances of elections thus spontaneously made on the proposal of citizens the most obscure. Thus is authority re-created in the same manner as it was dissolved, and very often of the NOTES. 206 same elements; for the constitution, as to certain posts in the magistracy, permits the re-election of those who have previously exercised them. The election being terminated, nothing remains but to consecrate the alliance about to be contracted between the people and their new magistrates. The chief of the state swears to respect the laws and independence of his country, and the people at length testifies by an acclamation, that it is ready to devote itself to the same cause, and that it will obey the voice of the Landamman as that of the country. Thus is annually renewed between the chiefs and citizens of a Republic, and under the auspices of religion, the volun- tary oath to live and die together, united and free. Thus are the destinies of a whole people prepared and accom- plished in the peaceful solemnity of a family fete, and with- out the apparel of arms, which can but frighten liberty when they do not serve to defend it. Games and patriotic songs conclude the day, and the people, each time that it thus reproduces itself, acquires a new motive to love the constitution bequeathed to it by its ancestors, and which procures for it so much repose without weakness, and so much liberty without disorder. 90^ NOTES. Note D, page 143. I see the Switzer rusk with naked breast, A willing victim on a rank of lances. The. event alluded to by the line in the text, took place at the battle of Sempach, which was contested near a town of that name, between Leopold, Duke of Austria, and the sworn confederates of the United Cantons. The Austrians had felt most bitterly the expulsion of their governors, and the overthrow of their government in Switzerland in 1308, and this, amongst other circumstances, led to the battle of Mongarten, fought on the 14th of November^, 1315, in which 1,300 Swiss, under the command of Rudolph Reding Von Bibereck, routed a large body of Austrians, under Leopold, the son of the Emperor Albert, and killed in the battle and the flight upwards of 9,000 of them. The battle of Sempach happened some years after- wards, and was no less honourable to the arms of Switzer- land, and the cause of liberty. The following account of it is chiefly extracted from Miiller. On the 9th of June, 1386, the Duke advanced against the Swiss at the head of an army of 4,000 (or, as some say, 8,000) mounted barons and knights; and followed by a much superior force of infantry, bringing with them a few pieces of artillery, then newly invented, and intended to be used at the siege of Sempach. Ajrived there, he # NOTES. 207 ordered the standing corn which grew around the place to be cut down ; and while it was in the act of being reaped, some of the Knights, seeing the chief magistrate on the walls, rode up for the purpose of scoffing at him, and requested that breakfast might be sent to the reapers. " Wait awhile," replied he, " the Sworn-Confederates pre- pare it." This retort is said to have so irritated the Austrian chivalry, that confident of their own numerical strength, they determined to attack their enemies, without waiting for their infantry, the greatest part of which had not yet arrived. The Confederates, about 1,400 in all, were posted on a rising ground, broken in front, and ill-suited to cavalry movements. The Duke, therefore, ordered his nobles to dismount, and march against the enemy in a phalanx. That this might be done the more easily, they cut off the long, and at that time fashionable spikes, worn at the end of their boots. Thus unimpeded, and armed with spears eighteen feet long, they were led on by the Duke in person. The Confederates awaited their approach, armed with short swords, and small round shields, axes, and morgensterns,* and as the Austrians toiled up the hill, under the weight of their armour, rushed down on them in a close body. * Morgenstern, Anglicej morning-star. A staff with an iron club-head, with spikes shooting from it after the fashion of the rays of a star. 208 NOTES. The phalanx, however, withstood the assault, and preserved its ranks unbroken, receiving its assailants on a triple row of lances. A desperate conflict followed. Clad in com- plete mail, the Austrians were invulnerable at the distance at which their close array and extended spears kept their enemies. Sixty of the best men among the Swiss were down, and the arrival of the Austrian infantry was every moment expected. Suddenly a voice was heard calling otit, '* I will open a lane for freedom, Sworn Confederates ! Take care of my wife and children!" and immediately a Switzer rushed with extended arms on the Austrian lances, grasped eight, and fell with them buried in his body. This was Struth von Winkelreid. For an instant he had made an opening in their line. The advantage was seen. In rushed the Confederates, and all gave way before them. Their unincumbered bodies, and short and heavy weapons, gave them all advantage at close quarters over opponents who were obliged to fight not only under heavy cavalry armour, but under the noontide sun of a hot sum- mer's day. A complete rout ensued. Some of the Austri- ans were found dead, not by wounds, but smothered by their harness. Their great banner was taken, and their Duke, together with almost all his nobility, slain on the field. One only of all the male branches of the House of Reinach escaped, and many other noble families were com- pletely extinguished. On the part of the Confederates, NOTES. 209 about 200 perished, and with them their leader, Gundol- dingen of Lucerne. Three days after the battle they returned home, bearing with them fifteen of the Austrian standards ; and, if we may believe the old ballad made on the occasion, more than a waggon-load of the spikes which the Austrian nobles had cut off their boots. Note E, page 175. *' The King was journeying from Stein to Baden." The murder of Albert of Austria, (who was himself ac- cused of having slain his predecessor Adolph,) forms a striking incident in the history of the fourteenth century. It is unnecessary to enter into the particulars of the event, because Schiller has adhered strictly to history in his narra- tion of it. The place where the murder was committed was a large ploughed field, standing directly under the hill on which the Castle of Hapsburg is built, and forming part of the plain on which stood the old city of Bindonissa. The conspirators who assisted the Duke of Swabia in its perpe- tration, were his friends Walter von Eschenbach, Rudolph von Balm, Rudolph von Wart, and Conrad von Tsegerfield, all of whom, excepting Von Wart, seem to have been actively engaged in the affair. The conspiracy appears to have been entered into hastily, and from motives of personal revenge. It is not known that it had any political object ; nor is it 210 NOTES. probable, as the conspirators formed no plan of defence against the consequences of their crime ; for no sooner was it committed, than all connexion between them was dissolved — each fled his own way, caring only for his own safety, and seeking it where he might best find it. The Duke bent his course towards the mountains, stayed a few days at Einsudeln, and then wandered into the woods and was no more seen. What became of Von Balm is not known, and Von Tsegerfield was never more heard of. Von Eschenbach fled to Falkenberg, the castle of his uncle, and Von Wart took refuge in the same place. The consequences of this murder were still more tragic than the deed itself. Albert left surviving him his queen and widow Elizabeth, and two children, Leopold Duke of Austria, and Agnes Queen of Hungary. These formed a league of vengeance against the murderers, and pursued it to the uttermost. Their castles, families, vassals, servants, and all that belonged to them, were spoiled and destroyed. At Farwangen, Agnes, notorious for her cruelty, had sixty- three gentlemen, guilty of no crime, but of being related to the conspirators, put to death in her presence ; and as the blood of her victims was poured out before her, cried, exult- ingly, " JSTww bade Ich in May-thau" — Now bathe I in May dew. But the most unfortunate of all who suffered on account of the King's death, was Rudolph von Wart. He had NOTES. 211 remained a passive spectator of the murder. He was, how- ever, numbered amongst those devoted to the anger of the avengers. Travelling to Avignon, for the purpose of getting absolution of the Pope, he was betrayed for a sum of money by the cousin of his wife, Diebold von Blamont, (who from that circumstance acquired the sobriquet of Kaufruan, or dealer,) into the hands of Albert's children, and by their order broken alive on the wheel. As he lay there, after his sentence had been inflicted, he said of his own accord, " I die guiltless ; yet, in truth, the others are equally so ; for they have slain no king, but one who, contrary to his honour and his oath, laid bloody hands on King Adolph ; who contrary to justice withheld from Duke John his patri- mony ; and who were weU worthy to suffer what I now suffer. May God forgive my sins." For three successive days this unhappy man lay in torment on the wheel, during the whole of which time his wife, a lady of the House of Balm, (who had in vain implored Agnes to spare his life,) stayed without tasting food by his side, praying with him, and endeavouring to comfort him. At length, when his sufferings were at an end, she retired from the scaffold to a convent, and there concealed from the world herself and her sorrows. After this, chiefly through the influence of Agnes, more than a thousand innocent men, women, and children, were delivered over to the executioner. With the property of these, and of those who had been previously her victims, she '"\ 212 NOTES. built and endowed, on the place where her lather fell, the Abbey of Konigsfeld. Hither she invited Berchtold Strebel von OfFtringen, who had been an old warrior under King Adolph, and now lived as a hermit on a mountain near Hapsburg. 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