No More Learning

I read in this a disaffected spirit.

TELL.
Pardon me, good my lord! The action sprung
From inadvertence,--not from disrespect.
Were I discreet, I were not William Tell.
Forgive me now--I'll not offend again.

GESSLER (after a pause).
I hear, Tell, you're a master with the bow,--
And bear the palm away from every rival.

WALTER.
That must be true, sir! At a hundred yards
He'll shoot an apple for you off the tree.

GESSLER.
Is that boy thine, Tell?

TELL.
Yes, my gracious lord.

GESSLER.
Hast any more of them?

TELL.
Two boys, my lord.

GESSLER.
And, of the two, which dost thou love the most?

TELL.
Sir, both the boys are dear to me alike.

GESSLER.
Then, Tell, since at a hundred yards thou canst
Bring down the apple from the tree, thou shalt
Approve thy skill before me. Take thy bow--
Thou hast it there at hand--and make thee ready
To shoot an apple from the stripling's head!
But take this counsel,--look well to thine aim,
See that thou hittest the apple at the first,
For, shouldst thou miss, thy head shall pay the forfeit.

[All give signs of horror.

TELL.
What monstrous thing, my lord, is this you ask?
That I, from the head of mine own child! --No, no!
It cannot be, kind sir, you meant not that--
God in His grace forbid! You could not ask
A father seriously to do that thing!

GESSLER.
Thou art to shoot an apple from his head!
I do desire--command it so.

TELL.
What, I!
Level my crossbow at the darling head
Of mine own child? No--rather let me die!

GESSLER.
Or thou must shoot, or with thee dies the boy.

TELL.
Shall I become the murderer of my child!
You have no children, sir--you do not know
The tender throbbings of a father's heart.

GESSLER.
How now, Tell, so discreet upon a sudden
I had been told thou wert a visionary,--
A wanderer from the paths of common men.
Thou lovest the marvellous. So have I now
Culled out for thee a task of special daring.
Another man might pause and hesitate;
Thou dashest at it, heart and soul, at once.

BERTHA.
Oh, do not jest, my lord, with these poor souls!
See, how they tremble, and how pale they look,
So little used are they to hear thee jest.

GESSLER.
Who tells thee that I jest?

[Grasping a branch above his head.

Here is the apple.
Room there, I say! And let him take his distance--
Just eighty paces-as the custom is
Not an inch more or less! It was his boast,
That at a hundred he could bit his man.
Now, archer, to your task, and look you miss not!

HARRAS:
Heavens! this grows serious--down, boy, on your knees,
And beg the governor to spare your life.

FURST (aside to MELCHTHAL, who can scarcely restrain his impatience).
Command yourself--be calm, I beg of you!

BERTHA (to the governor).
Let this suffice you, sir! It is inhuman
To trifle with a father's anguish thus.
Although this wretched man had forfeited
Both life and limb for such a slight offence,
Already has he suffered tenfold death.
Send him away uninjured to his home;
He'll know thee well in future; and this hour
He and his children's children will remember.

GESSLER.
Open a way there--quick! Why this delay?
Thy life is forfeited; I might despatch thee,
And see I graciously repose thy fate
Upon the skill of thine own practised hand.
No cause has he to say his doom is harsh,
Who's made the master of his destiny.
Thou boastest of thy steady eye. 'Tis well!
Now is a fitting time to show thy skill.
The mark is worthy, and the prize is great.
To hit the bull's-eye in the target; that
Can many another do as well as thou;
But he, methinks, is master of his craft
Who can at all times on his skill rely,
Nor lets his heart disturb or eye or hand.

FURST.
My lord, we bow to your authority;
But, oh, let justice yield to mercy here.
Take half my property, nay, take it all,
But spare a father this unnatural doom!

WALTER.
Grandfather, do not kneel to that bad man!
Say, where am I to stand? I do not fear;
My father strikes the bird upon the wing,
And will not miss now when 'twould harm his boy!

STAUFFACHER.
Does the child's innocence not touch your heart?

ROSSELMANN.
Bethink you, sir, there is a God in heaven,
To whom you must account for all your deeds.

GESSLER (pointing to the boy).
Bind him to yonder lime tree straight!

WALTER.
Bind me? No, I will not be bound! I will be still,
Still as a lamb--nor even draw my breath!
But if you bind me I cannot be still.
Then I shall writhe and struggle with my bonds.

HARRAS.
But let your eyes at least be bandaged, boy!

WALTER.
And why my eyes? No! Do you think I fear
An arrow from my father's hand? Not I!
I'll wait it firmly, nor so much as wink!
Quick, father, show them that thou art an archer!
He doubts thy skill--he thinks to ruin us.
Shoot then and hit though but to spite the tyrant!

[He goes to the lime tree, and an apple is placed on his head.

MELCHTHAL (to the country people).
What! Is this outrage to be perpetrated
Before our very eyes? Where is our oath?

STAUFFACHER.
'Tis all in vain. We have no weapons here;
And see the wood of lances that surrounds us!

MELCHTHAL.
Oh! would to heaven that we had struck at once!
God pardon those who counselled the delay!

GESSLER (to TELL).
Now, to thy task! Men bear not arms for naught.
'Tis dangerous to carry deadly weapons,
And on the archer oft his shaft recoils.
This right these haughty peasant-churls assume
Trenches upon their master's privileges.
None should be armed but those who bear command.
It pleases you wear the bow and bolt;
Well, be it so. I will provide the mark.

TELL (bends the bow and fixes the arrow).
A lane there! Room!

STAUFFACHER.
What, Tell? You would--no, no!
You shake--your hand's unsteady--your knees tremble!

TELL (letting the bow sink down).
There's something swims before mine eyes!

WOMEN.
Great Heaven!

TELL.
Release me from this shot!
Here is my heart!

[Tears open his breast.

Summon your troopers--let them strike me down!

GESSLER.
I do not want thy life, Tell, but the shot.
Thy talent's universal! Nothing daunts thee!
Thou canst direct the rudder like the bow!
Storms fright not thee when there's a life at stake.
Now, savior, help thyself, thou savest all!

[TELL stands fearfully agitated by contending emotions,
his hands moving convulsively, and his eyes turning
alternately to the governor and heaven. Suddenly he
takes a second arrow from his quiver and sticks it in
his belt. The governor watches all these motions.

WALTER (beneath the lime tree).
Come, father, shoot! I'm not afraid!

TELL.
It must be!

[Collects himself and levels the bow.

RUDENZ (who all the while has been standing in a state of violent
excitement, and has with difficulty restrained himself, advances).
My lord, you will not urge this matter further.
You will not. It was surely but a test.
You've gained your object. Rigor pushed too far
Is sure to miss its aim, however good,
As snaps the bow that's all too straightly bent.

GESSLER.
Peace, till your counsel's asked for!

RUDENZ.
I will speak! Ay, and I dare! I reverence my king;
But acts like these must make his name abhorred.
He sanctions not this cruelty. I dare
Avouch the fact. And you outstep your powers
In handling thus an unoffending people.

GESSLER.
Ha! thou growest bold methinks!

RUDENZ.
I have been dumb
To all the oppressions I was doomed to see.
I've closed mine eyes that they might not behold them,
Bade my rebellious, swelling heart be still,
And pent its struggles down within my breast.
But to be silent longer were to be
A traitor to my king and country both.

BERTHA (casting herself between him and the governor).
Oh, heavens! you but exasperate his rage!

RUDENZ.
My people I forsook, renounced my kindred--
Broke all the ties of nature that I might
Attach myself to you. I madly thought
That I should best advance the general weal,
By adding sinews to the emperor's power.
The scales have fallen from mine eyes--I see
The fearful precipice on which I stand.
You've led my youthful judgment far astray,--
Deceived my honest heart. With best intent,
I had well nigh achieved my country's ruin.

GESSLER.
Audacious boy, this language to thy lord?

RUDENZ.
The emperor is my lord, not you! I'm free
As you by birth, and I can cope with you
In every virtue that beseems a knight.
And if you stood not here in that king's name,
Which I respect e'en where 'tis most abused,
I'd throw my gauntlet down, and you should give
An answer to my gage in knightly fashion.
Ay, beckon to your troopers! Here I stand;
But not like these--
[Pointing to the people.
unarmed. I have a sword,
And he that stirs one step----

STAUFFACHER (exclaims).
The apple's down!

[While the attention of the crowd has been directed
to the spot where BERTHA had cast herself between RUDENZ
and GESSLER, TELL has shot.

ROSSELMANN.
The boy's alive!

MANY VOICES.
The apple has been struck!

[WALTER FURST staggers, and is about to fall. BERTHA supports him.

GESSLER (astonished).
How? Has he shot? The madman!

BERTHA.
Worthy father!
Pray you compose yourself. The boy's alive!

WALTER (runs in with the apple).
Here is the apple, father! Well I knew
You would not harm your boy.

[TELL stands with his body bent forwards, as though he would
follow the arrow. His bow drops from his hand. When he sees
the boy advancing, he hastens to meet him with open arms, and
embracing him passionately sinks down with him quite exhausted.
All crowd round them deeply affected.

BERTHA.
Oh, ye kind heavens!

FURST (to father and son).
My children, my dear children!

STAUFFACHER.
God be praised!

LEUTHOLD.
Almighty powers! That was a shot indeed!
It will be talked of to the end of time.

HARRAS.
This feat of Tell, the archer, will be told
While yonder mountains stand upon their base.

[Hands the apple to GESSLER.

GESSLER.
By heaven! the apple's cleft right through the core.
It was a master shot I must allow.

ROSSELMANN.
The shot was good. But woe to him who drove
The man to tempt his God by such a feat!

STAUFFACHER.
Cheer up, Tell, rise! You've nobly freed yourself,
And now may go in quiet to your home.

ROSSELMANN.
Come, to the mother let us bear her son!

GESSLER.
A word, Tell.

[They are about to lead him off.

TELL.
Sir, your pleasure?

GESSLER.
Thou didst place
A second arrow in thy belt--nay, nay!
I saw it well--what was thy purpose with it?

TELL (confused).
It is the custom with all archers, sir.

GESSLER.
No, Tell, I cannot let that answer pass.
There was some other motive, well I know.
Frankly and cheerfully confess the truth;--
Whate'er it be I promise thee thy life,
Wherefore the second arrow?

TELL.
Well, my lord,
Since you have promised not to take my life,
I will, without reserve, declare the truth.

[He draws the arrow from his belt, and fixes his eyes
sternly upon the governor.

If that my hand had struck my darling child,
This second arrow I had aimed at you,
And, be assured, I should not then have missed.

GESSLER.
Well, Tell, I promised thou shouldst have thy life;
I gave my knightly word, and I will keep it.
Yet, as I know the malice of thy thoughts,
I will remove thee hence to sure confinement,
Where neither sun nor moon shall reach thine eyes,
Thus from thy arrows I shall be secure.
Seize on him, guards, and bind him.

[They bind him.

STAUFFACHER.
How, my lord--
How can you treat in such a way a man
On whom God's hand has plainly been revealed?

GESSLER.
Well, let us see if it will save him twice!
Remove him to my ship; I'll follow straight.
In person I will see him lodged at Kuessnacht.

ROSSELMANN.
You dare not do it. Nor durst the emperor's self,
So violate our dearest chartered rights.

GESSLER.
Where are they? Has the emperor confirmed them?
He never has. And only by obedience
Need you expect to win that favor from him.
You are all rebels 'gainst the emperor's power
And bear a desperate and rebellious spirit.
I know you all--I see you through and through.
Him do I single from amongst you now,
But in his guilt you all participate.
The wise will study silence and obedience.

[Exit, followed by BERTHA, RUDENZ, HARRAS, and attendants.
FRIESSHARDT and LEUTHOLD remain.

FURST (in violent anguish).
All's over now! He is resolved to bring
Destruction on myself and all my house.

STAUFFACHER (to Tell).
Oh, why did you provoke the tyrant's rage?

TELL.
Let him be calm who feels the pangs I felt.

STAUFFACHER.
Alas! alas! Our every hope is gone.
With you we all are fettered and enchained.

COUNTRY PEOPLE (surrounding Tell).
Our last remaining comfort goes with you!

LEUTHOLD (approaching him).
I'm sorry for you, Tell, but must obey.

TELL.
Farewell!

WALTER (clinging to him in great agony).
Oh, father, father, father dear!

TELL (pointing to Heaven).
Thy father is on high--appeal to Him!

STAUFFACHER.
Hast thou no message, Tell, to send your wife?

TELL (clasping the boy passionately to his breast).
The boy's uninjured; God will succor me!

[Tears himself suddenly away, and follows the soldiers
of the guard.




ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Eastern shore of the Lake of Lucerne; rugged and singularly
shaped rocks close the prospect to the west. The lake is
agitated, violent roaring and rushing of wind, with thunder
and lightning at intervals.

KUNZ OF GERSAU, FISHERMAN and BOY.


KUNZ.
I saw it with these eyes! Believe me, friend,
It happen'd all precisely as I've said.

FISHERMAN.
Tell, made a prisoner, and borne off to Kuessnacht?
The best man in the land, the bravest arm,
Had we resolved to strike for liberty!

KUNZ.
The Viceroy takes him up the lake in person:
They were about to go on board, as I
Left Flueelen; but still the gathering storm,
That drove me here to land so suddenly,
Perchance has hindered their abrupt departure.

FISHERMAN.
Our Tell in chains, and in the viceroy's power!
Oh, trust me, Gessler will entomb him where
He never more shall see the light of day;
For, Tell once free, the tyrant well may dread
The just revenge of one so deep incensed.

KUNZ.
The old Landamman, too--von Attinghaus--
They say, is lying at the point of death.

FISHERMAN.
Then the last anchor of our hopes gives way!
He was the only man who dared to raise
His voice in favor of the people's rights.

KUNZ.
The storm grows worse and worse. So, fare ye well!
I'll go and seek out quarters in the village.
There's not a chance of getting off to-day.

[Exit.

FISHERMAN.
Tell dragged to prison, and the baron dead!
Now, tyranny, exalt thy insolent front--
Throw shame aside! The voice of truth is silenced,
The eye that watched for us in darkness closed,
The arm that should have struck thee down in chains!

BOY.
'Tis hailing hard--come, let us to the cottage
This is no weather to be out in, father!

FISHERMAN.
Rage on, ye winds! Ye lightnings, flash your fires!
Burst, ye swollen clouds! Ye cataracts of heaven,
Descend, and drown the country! In the germ,
Destroy the generations yet unborn!
Ye savage elements, be lords of all!
Return, ye bears; ye ancient wolves, return
To this wide, howling waste! The land is yours.
Who would live here when liberty is gone?

BOY.
Hark! How the wind whistles and the whirlpool roars;
I never saw a storm so fierce as this!

FISHERMAN.
To level at the head of his own child!
Never had father such command before.
And shall not nature, rising in wild wrath,
Revolt against the deed? I should not marvel,
Though to the lake these rocks should bow their heads,
Though yonder pinnacles, yon towers of ice,
That, since creation's dawn, have known no thaw,
Should, from their lofty summits, melt away;
Though yonder mountains, yon primeval cliffs,
Should topple down, and a new deluge whelm
Beneath its waves all living men's abodes!

[Bells heard.

BOY.
Hark! they are ringing on the mountain yonder!
They surely see some vessel in distress,
And toll the bell that we may pray for it.

[Ascends a rock.

FISHERMAN.
Woe to the bark that now pursues its course,
Rocked in the cradle of these storm-tossed waves.
Nor helm nor steersman here can aught avail;
The storm is master. Man is like a ball,
Tossed 'twixt the winds and billows. Far, or near,
No haven offers him its friendly shelter!
Without one ledge to grasp, the sheer, smooth rocks
Look down inhospitably on his despair,
And only tender him their flinty breasts.

BOY (calling from above).
Father, a ship; and bearing down from Flueelen.

FISHERMAN.
Heaven pity the poor wretches! When the storm
Is once entangled in this strait of ours,
It rages like some savage beast of prey,
Struggling against its cage's iron bars.
Howling, it seeks an outlet--all in vain;
For the rocks hedge it round on every side,
Walling the narrow pass as high as heaven.

[He ascends a cliff.

BOY.
It is the governor of Uri's ship;
By its red poop I know it, and the flag.

FISHERMAN.
Judgments of Heaven! Yes, it is he himself.
It is the governor! Yonder he sails,
And with him bears the burden of his crimes!
Soon has the arm of the avenger found him;
Now over him he knows a mightier lord.
These waves yield no obedience to his voice,
These rocks bow not their heads before his cap.