No More Learning

Even now they only wait some fair pretext
For setting loose their savage warrior hordes,
To scourge and ravage this devoted land,
To lord it o'er us with the victor's rights,
And 'neath the show of lawful chastisement,
Despoil us of our chartered liberties.

GERTRUDE.
You, too, are men; can wield a battle-axe
As well as they. God ne'er deserts the brave.

STAUFFACHER.
Oh wife! a horrid, ruthless fiend is war,
That strikes at once the shepherd and his flock.

GERTRUDE.
Whate'er great heaven inflicts we must endure;
No heart of noble temper brooks injustice.

STAUFFACHER.
This house--thy pride--war, unrelenting war,
Will burn it down.

GERTRUDE.
And did I think this heart
Enslaved and fettered to the things of earth,
With my own hand I'd hurl the kindling torch.

STAUFFACHER.
Thou hast faith in human kindness, wife; but war
Spares not the tender infant in its cradle.

GERTRUDE.
There is a friend to innocence in heaven
Look forward, Werner--not behind you, now!

STAUFFACHER.
We men may perish bravely, sword in hand;
But oh, what fate, my Gertrude, may be thine?

GERTRUDE.
None are so weak, but one last choice is left.
A spring from yonder bridge, and I am free!

STAUFFACHER (embracing her).
Well may he fight for hearth and home that clasps
A heart so rare as thine against his own!
What are the hosts of emperors to him!
Gertrude, farewell! I will to Uri straight.
There lives my worthy comrade, Walter Furst,
His thoughts and mine upon these times are one.
There, too, resides the noble Banneret
Of Attinghaus. High though of blood he be,
He loves the people, honors their old customs.
With both of these I will take counsel how
To rid us bravely of our country's foe.
Farewell! and while I am away, bear thou
A watchful eye in management at home.
The pilgrim journeying to the house of God,
And pious monk, collecting for his cloister,
To these give liberally from purse and garner.
Stauffacher's house would not be hid. Right out
Upon the public way it stands, and offers
To all that pass an hospitable roof.

[While they are retiring, TELL enters with BAUMGARTEN.

TELL.
Now, then, you have no further need of me.
Enter yon house. 'Tis Werner Stauffacher's,
A man that is a father to distress.
See, there he is himself! Come, follow me.

[They retire up. Scene changes.



SCENE III.

A common near Altdorf. On an eminence in the background a castle
in progress of erection, and so far advanced that the outline of the
whole may be distinguished. The back part is finished; men are
working at the front. Scaffolding, on which the workmen are going
up and down. A slater is seen upon the highest part of the roof. --
All is bustle and activity.

TASKMASTER, MASON, WORKMEN, and LABORERS.

TASKMASTER (with a stick, urging on the workmen).
Up, up! You've rested long enough. To work!
The stones here, now the mortar, and the lime!
And let his lordship see the work advanced
When next he comes. These fellows crawl like snails!

[To two laborers with loads.

What! call ye that a load? Go, double it.
Is this the way ye earn your wages, laggards?

FIRST WORKMAN.
'Tis very hard that we must bear the stones,
To make a keep and dungeon for ourselves!

TASKMASTER.
What's that you mutter? 'Tis a worthless race,
And fit for nothing but to milk their cows,
And saunter idly up and down the mountains.

OLD MAN (sinks down exhausted).
I can no more.

TASKMASTER (shaking him).
Up, up, old man, to work!

FIRST WORKMAN.
Have you no bowels of compassion, thus
To press so hard upon a poor old man,
That scarce can drag his feeble limbs along?

MASTER MASON and WORKMEN.
Shame, shame upon you--shame! It cries to heaven!

TASKMASTER.
Mind your own business. I but do my duty.

FIRST WORKMAN.
Pray, master, what's to be the name of this
Same castle when 'tis built?

TASKMASTER.
The keep of Uri;
For by it we shall keep you in subjection.

WORKMEN.
The keep of Uri.

TASKMASTER.
Well, why laugh at that?

SECOND WORKMAN.
So you'll keep Uri with this paltry place!

FIRST WORKMAN.
How many molehills such as that must first
Be piled above each other ere you make
A mountain equal to the least in Uri?

[TASKMASTER retires up the stage.

MASTER MASON.
I'll drown the mallet in the deepest lake,
That served my hand on this accursed pile.

[Enter TELL and STAUFFACHER.

STAUFFACHER.
Oh, that I had not lived to see this sight!

TELL.
Here 'tis not good to be. Let us proceed.

STAUFFACHER.
Am I in Uri, in the land of freedom?

MASTER MASON.
Oh, sir, if you could only see the vaults
Beneath these towers. The man that tenants them
Will never hear the cock crow more.

STAUFFACHER.
O God!

MASTER MASON.
Look at these ramparts and these buttresses,
That seem as they were built to last forever.

TELL.
Hands can destroy whatever hands have reared.

[Pointing to the mountains.

That house of freedom God hath built for us.

[A drum is heard. People enter bearing a cap upon a
pole, followed by a crier. Women and children thronging
tumultuously after them.

FIRST WORKMAN.
What means the drum? Give heed!

MASTER MASON.
Why here's a mumming!
And look, the cap,--what can they mean by that?

CRIER.
In the emperor's name, give ear!

WORKMEN.
Hush! silence! hush!

CRIER.
Ye men of Uri, ye do see this cap!
It will be set upon a lofty pole
In Altdorf, in the market-place: and this
Is the lord governor's good will and pleasure,
The cap shall have like honor as himself,
And all shall reverence it with bended knee,
And head uncovered; thus the king will know
Who are his true and loyal subjects here:
His life and goods are forfeit to the crown,
That shall refuse obedience to the order.

[The people burst out into laughter. The drum beats,
and the procession passes on.

FIRST WORKMAN.
A strange device to fall upon, indeed!
Do reverence to a cap! a pretty farce!
Heard ever mortal anything like this?

MASTER MASON.
Down to a cap on bended knee, forsooth!
Rare jesting this with men of sober sense!

FIRST WORKMAN.
Nay, were it but the imperial crown, indeed!
But 'tis the cap of Austria! I've seen it
Hanging above the throne in Gessler's hall.

MASTER MASON.
The cap of Austria! Mark that! A snare
To get us into Austria's power, by heaven!

WORKMEN.
No freeborn man will stoop to such disgrace.

MASTER MASON.
Come--to our comrades, and advise with them!

[They retire up.

TELL (to STAUFFACHER).
You see how matters stand: Farewell, my friend!

STAUFFACHER.
Whither away? Oh, leave us not so soon.

TELL.
They look for me at home. So fare ye well.

STAUFFACHER.
My heart's so full, and has so much to tell you.

TELL.
Words will not make a heart that's heavy light.

STAUFFACHER.
Yet words may possibly conduct to deeds.

TELL.
All we can do is to endure in silence.

STAUFFACHER.
But shall we bear what is not to be borne?

TELL.
Impetuous rulers have the shortest reigns.
When the fierce south wind rises from his chasms,
Men cover up their fires, the ships in haste
Make for the harbor, and the mighty spirit
Sweeps o'er the earth, and leaves no trace behind.
Let every man live quietly at home;
Peace to the peaceful rarely is denied.

STAUFFACHER.
And is it thus you view our grievances?

TELL.
The serpent stings not till it is provoked.
Let them alone; they'll weary of themselves,
Whene'er they see we are not to be roused.

STAUFFACHER.
Much might be done--did we stand fast together.

TELL.
When the ship founders, he will best escape
Who seeks no other's safety but his own.

STAUFFACHER.
And you desert the common cause so coldly?

TELL.
A man can safely count but on himself!

STAUFFACHER.
Nay, even the weak grow strong by union.

TELL.
But the strong man is the strongest when alone.

STAUFFACHER.
Your country, then, cannot rely on you
If in despair she rise against her foes.

TELL.
Tell rescues the lost sheep from yawning gulfs:
Is he a man, then, to desert his friends?
Yet, whatsoe'er you do, spare me from council!
I was not born to ponder and select;
But when your course of action is resolved,
Then call on Tell; you shall not find him fail.

[Exeunt severally. A sudden tumult is heard around the scaffolding.

MASTER MASON (running in).
What's wrong?

FIRST WORKMAN (running forward).
The slater's fallen from the roof.

BERTHA (rushing in).
Is he dashed to pieces? Run--save him, help!
If help be possible, save him! Here is gold.

[Throws her trinkets among the people.

MASTER MASON.
Hence with your gold,--your universal charm,
And remedy for ill! When you have torn
Fathers from children, husbands from their wives,
And scattered woe and wail throughout the land,
You think with gold to compensate for all.
Hence! Till we saw you we were happy men;
With you came misery and dark despair.

BERTHA (to the TASKMASTER, who has returned).
Lives he?
[TASKMASTER shakes his head.
Ill-fated towers, with curses built,
And doomed with curses to be tenanted!

[Exit.



SCENE IV.

The House of WALTER FURST.
WALTER FURST and ARNOLD
VON MELCHTHAL enter simultaneously at different sides.

MELCHTHAL.
Good Walter Furst.

FURST.
If we should be surprised!
Stay where you are. We are beset with spies.

MELCHTHAL.
Have you no news for me from Unterwald?
What of my father? 'Tis not to be borne,
Thus to be pent up like a felon here!
What have I done of such a heinous stamp,
To skulk and hide me like a murderer?
I only laid my staff across the fingers
Of the pert varlet, when before my eyes,
By order of the governor, he tried
To drive away my handsome team of oxen.

FURST.
You are too rash by far. He did no more
Than what the governor had ordered him.
You had transgressed, and therefore should have paid
The penalty, however hard, in silence.

MELCHTHAL.
Was I to brook the fellow's saucy words?
"That if the peasant must have bread to eat;
Why, let him go and draw the plough himself! "
It cut me to the very soul to see
My oxen, noble creatures, when the knave
Unyoked them from the plough. As though they felt
The wrong, they lowed and butted with their horns.
On this I could contain myself no longer,
And, overcome by passion, struck him down.

FURST.
Oh, we old men can scarce command ourselves!
And can we wonder youth shall break its bounds?

MELCHTHAL.
I'm only sorry for my father's sake!
To be away from him, that needs so much
My fostering care! The governor detests him,
Because he hath, whene'er occasion served,
Stood stoutly up for right and liberty.
Therefore they'll bear him hard--the poor old man!
And there is none to shield him from their gripe.
Come what come may, I must go home again.

FURST.
Compose yourself, and wait in patience till
We get some tidings o'er from Unterwald.
Away! away! I hear a knock! Perhaps
A message from the viceroy! Get thee in!
You are not safe from Landenberger's [6] arm
In Uri, for these tyrants pull together.

MELCHTHAL.
They teach us Switzers what we ought to do.

FURST.
Away! I'll call you when the coast is clear.

[MELCHTHAL retires.

Unhappy youth! I dare not tell him all
The evil that my boding heart predicts!
Who's there? The door ne'er opens but I look
For tidings of mishap. Suspicion lurks
With darkling treachery in every nook.
Even to our inmost rooms they force their way,
These myrmidons of power; and soon we'll need
To fasten bolts and bars upon our doors.

[He opens the door and steps back in surprise as
WERNER STAUFFACHER enters.

What do I see? You, Werner? Now, by Heaven!
A valued guest, indeed. No man e'er set
His foot across this threshold more esteemed.
Welcome! thrice welcome, Werner, to my roof!
What brings you here? What seek you here in Uri?

STAUFFACHER (shakes FURST by the hand).
The olden times and olden Switzerland.

FURST.
You bring them with you. See how I'm rejoiced,
My heart leaps at the very sight of you.
Sit down--sit down, and tell me how you left
Your charming wife, fair Gertrude? Iberg's child,
And clever as her father. Not a man,
That wends from Germany, by Meinrad's Cell, [7]
To Italy, but praises far and wide
Your house's hospitality. But say,
Have you come here direct from Flueelen,
And have you noticed nothing on your way,
Before you halted at my door?

STAUFFACHER (sits down).
I saw
A work in progress, as I came along,
I little thought to see--that likes me ill.

FURST.
O friend! you've lighted on my thought at once.

STAUFFACHER.
Such things in Uri ne'er were known before.
Never was prison here in man's remembrance,
Nor ever any stronghold but the grave.

FURST.
You name it well. It is the grave of freedom.

STAUFFACHER.
Friend, Walter Furst, I will be plain with you.
No idle curiosity it is
That brings me here, but heavy cares. I left
Thraldom at home, and thraldom meets me here.
Our wrongs, e'en now, are more than we can bear.
And who shall tell us where they are to end?
From eldest time the Switzer has been free,
Accustomed only to the mildest rule.
Such things as now we suffer ne'er were known
Since herdsmen first drove cattle to the hills.

FURST.
Yes, our oppressions are unparalleled!
Why, even our own good lord of Attinghaus,
Who lived in olden times, himself declares
They are no longer to be tamely borne.

STAUFFACHER.
In Unterwalden yonder 'tis the same;
And bloody has the retribution been.
The imperial seneschal, the Wolfshot, who
At Rossberg dwelt, longed for forbidden fruits--
Baumgarten's wife, that lives at Alzellen,
He wished to overcome in shameful sort,
On which the husband slew him with his axe.

FURST.
Oh, Heaven is just in all its judgments still!
Baumgarten, say you? A most worthy man.
Has he escaped, and is he safely hid?

STAUFFACHER.
Your son-in-law conveyed him o'er the lake,
And he lies hidden in my house at Steinen.
He brought the tidings with him of a thing
That has been done at Sarnen, worse than all,
A thing to make the very heart run blood!

FURST (attentively).
Say on. What is it?

STAUFFACHER.
There dwells in Melchthal, then,
Just as you enter by the road from Kearns,
An upright man, named Henry of the Halden,
A man of weight and influence in the Diet.

FURST.
Who knows him not? But what of him? Proceed.

STAUFFACHER.
The Landenberg, to punish some offence,
Committed by the old man's son, it seems,
Had given command to take the youth's best pair
Of oxen from his plough: on which the lad
Struck down the messenger and took to flight.

FURST.
But the old father--tell me, what of him?

STAUFFACHER.
The Landenberg sent for him, and required
He should produce his son upon the spot;
And when the old man protested, and with truth,
That he knew nothing of the fugitive,
The tyrant called his torturers.

FURST (springs up and tries to lead him to the other side).
Hush, no more!

STAUFFACHER (with increasing warmth).
"And though thy son," he cried, "Has escaped me now,
I have thee fast, and thou shalt feel my vengeance. "
With that they flung the old man to the earth,
And plunged the pointed steel into his eyes.

FURST.
Merciful heavens!

MELCHTHAL (rushing out).
Into his eyes, his eyes?

STAUFFACHER (addresses himself in astonishment to WALTER FURST).
Who is this youth?

MELCHTHAL (grasping him convulsively).
Into his eyes? Speak, speak!

FURST.
Oh, miserable hour!

STAUFFACHER.
Who is it, tell me?

[STAUFFACHER makes a sign to him.

It is his son! All righteous heaven!

MELCHTHAL.
And I
Must be from thence! What! into both his eyes?

FURST.
Be calm, be calm; and bear it like a man!

MELCHTHAL.
And all for me--for my mad wilful folly!
Blind, did you say? Quite blind--and both his eyes?

STAUFFACHER.
Even so. The fountain of his sight's dried up.
He ne'er will see the blessed sunshine more.

FURST.
Oh, spare his anguish!

MELCHTHAL.
Never, never more!

[Presses his hands upon his eyes and is silent for some
moments; then turning from one to the other, speaks in a
subdued tone, broken by sobs.

O the eye's light, of all the gifts of heaven,
The dearest, best! From light all beings live--
Each fair created thing--the very plants
Turn with a joyful transport to the light,
And he--he must drag on through all his days
In endless darkness! Never more for him
The sunny meads shall glow, the flowerets bloom;
Nor shall he more behold the roseate tints
Of the iced mountain top! To die is nothing,
But to have life, and not have sight--oh, that
Is misery indeed! Why do you look
So piteously at me? I have two eyes,
Yet to my poor blind father can give neither!
No, not one gleam of that great sea of light,
That with its dazzling splendor floods my gaze.

STAUFFACHER.
Ah, I must swell the measure of your grief,
Instead of soothing it. The worst, alas!
Remains to tell. They've stripped him of his all;
Naught have they left him, save his staff, on which,
Blind and in rags, he moves from door to door.

MELCHTHAL.
Naught but his staff to the old eyeless man!
Stripped of his all--even of the light of day,
The common blessing of the meanest wretch.