Stoutly they pulled, and soon we neared the point;
One prayer to God for his assisting grace,
And straining every muscle, I brought round
The vessel's stern close to the rocky wall;
Then snatching up my weapons, with a bound
I swung myself upon the flattened shelf,
And with my feet thrust off, with all my might,
The puny bark into the hell of waters.
One prayer to God for his assisting grace,
And straining every muscle, I brought round
The vessel's stern close to the rocky wall;
Then snatching up my weapons, with a bound
I swung myself upon the flattened shelf,
And with my feet thrust off, with all my might,
The puny bark into the hell of waters.
Friedrich Schiller
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.
Boy, do not pray; stay not the Judge's arm!
BOY.
I pray not for the governor; I pray
For Tell, who is on board the ship with him.
FISHERMAN.
Alas, ye blind, unreasoning elements!
Must ye, in punishing one guilty head,
Destroy the vessel and the pilot too?
BOY.
See, see, they've cleared the Buggisgrat [20]; but now
The blast, rebounding from the Devil's Minster [21],
Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg. [22]
I cannot see them now.
FISHERMAN.
The Hakmesser [23]
Is there, that's foundered many a gallant ship.
If they should fail to double that with skill,
Their bark will go to pieces on the rocks
That hide their jagged peaks below the lake.
They have on board the very best of pilots;
If any man can save them, Tell is he;
But he is manacled, both hand and foot.
[Enter WILLIAM TELL, with his crossbow. He enters
precipitately, looks wildly round, and testifies the
most violent agitation. When he reaches the centre
of the stage, he throws himself upon his knees, and
stretches out his hands, first towards the earth, then
towards heaven.
BOY (observing him).
See, father! Who is that man, kneeling yonder?
FISHERMAN.
He clutches at the earth with both his hands,
And looks as though he were beside himself.
BOY (advancing).
What do I see? Father, come here, and look!
FISHERMAN (approaches).
Who is it? God in heaven! What! William Tell,
How came you hither? Speak, Tell!
BOY.
Were you not
In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains?
FISHERMAN.
Were they not bearing you away to Kuessnacht?
TELL (rising).
I am released.
FISHERMAN and BOY.
Released, oh miracle!
BOY.
Whence came you here?
TELL.
From yonder vessel!
FISHERMAN.
What?
BOY.
Where is the viceroy?
TELL.
Drifting on the waves.
FISHERMAN.
Is't possible? But you! How are you here?
How 'scaped you from your fetters and the storm?
TELL.
By God's most gracious providence. Attend.
FISHERMAN and BOY.
Say on, say on!
TELL.
You know what passed at Altdorf?
FISHERMAN.
I do--say on!
TELL.
How I was seized and bound,
And ordered by the governor to Kuessnacht.
FISHERMAN.
And how with you at Flueelen he embarked.
All this we know. Say, how have you escaped?
TELL.
I lay on deck, fast bound with cords, disarmed,
In utter hopelessness. I did not think
Again to see the gladsome light of day,
Nor the dear faces of my wife and children;
And eyed disconsolate the waste of waters----
FISHERMAN.
Oh, wretched man!
TELL.
Then we put forth; the viceroy,
Rudolph der Harras, and their suite. My bow
And quiver lay astern beside the helm;
And just as we had reached the corner, near
The Little Axen [24], heaven ordained it so,
That from the Gotthardt's gorge, a hurricane
Swept down upon us with such headlong force,
That every rower's heart within him sank,
And all on board looked for a watery grave.
Then heard I one of the attendant train,
Turning to Gessler, in this strain accost him:
"You see our danger, and your own, my lord
And that we hover on the verge of death.
The boatmen there are powerless from fear,
Nor are they confident what course to take;
Now, here is Tell, a stout and fearless man,
And knows to steer with more than common skill.
How if we should avail ourselves of him
In this emergency? " The viceroy then
Addressed me thus: "If thou wilt undertake
To bring us through this tempest safely, Tell,
I might consent to free thee from thy bonds. "
I answered, "Yes, my lord, with God's assistance,
I'll see what can be done, and help us heaven! "
On this they loosed me from my bonds, and I
Stood by the helm and fairly steered along;
Yet ever eyed my shooting-gear askance,
And kept a watchful eye upon the shore,
To find some point where I might leap to land
And when I had descried a shelving crag,
That jutted, smooth atop, into the lake----
FISHERMAN.
I know it. 'Tis at foot of the Great Axen;
But looks so steep, I never could have dreamed
'Twere possible to leap it from the boat.
TELL.
I bade the men put forth their utmost might,
Until we came before the shelving crag.
For there, I said, the danger will be past!
Stoutly they pulled, and soon we neared the point;
One prayer to God for his assisting grace,
And straining every muscle, I brought round
The vessel's stern close to the rocky wall;
Then snatching up my weapons, with a bound
I swung myself upon the flattened shelf,
And with my feet thrust off, with all my might,
The puny bark into the hell of waters.
There let it drift about, as heaven ordains!
Thus am I here, delivered from the might
Of the dread storm, and man, more dreadful still.
FISHERMAN.
Tell, Tell, the Lord has manifestly wrought
A miracle in thy behalf! I scarce
Can credit my own eyes. But tell me, now,
Whither you purpose to betake yourself?
For you will be in peril should the viceroy
Chance to escape this tempest with his life.
TELL.
I heard him say, as I lay bound on board,
His purpose was to disembark at Brunnen;
And, crossing Schwytz, convey me to his castle.
FISHERMAN.
Means he to go by land?
TELL.
So he intends.
FISHERMAN.
Oh, then, conceal yourself without delay!
Not twice will heaven release you from his grasp.
TELL.
Which is the nearest way to Arth and Kuessnacht?
FISHERMAN.
The public road leads by the way of Steinen,
But there's a nearer road, and more retired,
That goes by Lowerz, which my boy can show you.
TELL (gives him his hand).
May heaven reward your kindness! Fare ye well!
[As he is going he comes back.
Did not you also take the oath at Rootli?
I heard your name, methinks.
FISHERMAN.
Yes, I was there,
And took the oath of the confederacy;
TELL.
Then do me this one favor; speed to Buerglen
My wife is anxious at my absence--tell her
That I am free, and in secure concealment.
FISHERMAN.
But whither shall I tell her you have fled?
TELL.
You'll find her father with her, and some more,
Who took the oath with you upon the Rootli;
Bid them be resolute, and strong of heart,
For Tell is free and master of his arm;
They shall hear further news of me ere long.
FISHERMAN.
What have you, then, in view? Come, tell me frankly!
TELL.
When once 'tis done 'twill be in every mouth.
[Exit.
FISHERMAN.
Show him the way, boy. Heaven be his support!
Whate'er he has resolved, he'll execute.
[Exit.
SCENE II.
Baronial mansion of Attinghausen. The BARON upon a couch dying.
WALTER FURST, STAUFFACHER, MELCHTHAL, and BAUMGARTEN attending round
him. WALTER TELL kneeling before the dying man.
FURST.
All now is over with him. He is gone.
STAUFFACHER.
He lies not like one dead. The feather, see,
Moves on his lips! His sleep is very calm,
And on his features plays a placid smile.
[BAUMGARTEN goes to the door and speaks with some one.
FURST.
Who's there?
BAUGMARTEN (returning).
Tell's wife, your daughter; she insists
That she must speak with you, and see her boy.
[WALTER TELL rises.
FURST.
I who need comfort--can I comfort her?
Does every sorrow centre on my head?
HEDWIG (forcing her way in).
Where is my child? Unhand me! I must see him.
STAUFFACHER.
Be calm! Reflect you're in the house of death!
HEDWIG (falling upon her boy's neck).
My Walter! Oh, he yet is mine!
WALTER.
Dear mother!
HEDWIG.
And is it surely so? Art thou unhurt?
[Gazing at him with anxious tenderness.
And is it possible he aimed at thee?
How could he do it? Oh, he has no heart--
And he could wing an arrow at his child!
FURST.
His soul was racked with anguish when he did it.
No choice was left him, but to shoot or die!
HEDWIG.
Oh, if he had a father's heart, he would
Have sooner perished by a thousand deaths!
STAUFFACHER.
You should be grateful for God's gracious care,
That ordered things so well.
HEDWIG.
Can I forget
What might have been the issue. God of heaven!
Were I to live for centuries, I still
Should see my boy tied up,--his father's mark,
And still the shaft would quiver in my heart!
MELCHTHAL.
You know not how the viceroy taunted him!
HEDWIG.
Oh, ruthless heart of man! Offend his pride,
And reason in his breast forsakes her seat;
In his blind wrath he'll stake upon a cast
A child's existence, and a mother's heart!
BAUMGARTEN.
Is then your husband's fate not hard enough,
That you embitter it by such reproaches?
Have you no feeling for his sufferings?
HEDWIG (turning to him and gazing full upon him).
Hast thou tears only for thy friend's distress?
Say, where were you when he--my noble Tell,
Was bound in chains? Where was your friendship, then?
The shameful wrong was done before your eyes;
Patient you stood, and let your friend be dragged,
Ay, from your very hands. Did ever Tell
Act thus to you? Did he stand whining by
When on your heels the viceroy's horsemen pressed,
And full before you roared the storm-tossed lake?
Oh, not with idle tears he showed his pity;
Into the boat he sprung, forgot his home,
His wife, his children, and delivered thee!
FURST.
It had been madness to attempt his rescue,
Unarmed, and few in numbers as we were.
HEDWIG (casting herself upon his bosom).
Oh, father, and thou, too, hast lost my Tell!
The country--all have lost him! All lament
His loss; and, oh, how he must pine for us!
Heaven keep his soul from sinking to despair!
No friend's consoling voice can penetrate
His dreary dungeon walls. Should befall sick!
Ah! In the vapors of the murky vault
He must fall sick. Even as the Alpine rose
Grows pale and withers in the swampy air,
There is no life for him, but in the sun,
And in the balm of heaven's refreshing breeze.
Imprisoned? Liberty to him is breath;
He cannot live in the rank dungeon air!
STAUFFACHER.
Pray you be calm! And, hand in hand, we'll all
Combine to burst his prison doors.
HEDWIG.
Without him,
What have you power to do? While Tell was free,
There still, indeed, was hope--weak innocence
Had still a friend, and the oppressed a stay.
Tell saved you all! You cannot all combined
Release him from his cruel prison bonds.
[The BARON wakes.
BAUMGARTEN.
Hush, hush! He starts!
ATTINGHAUSEN (sitting up).
Where is he?
STAUFFACHER.
Who?
ATTINGHAUSEN.
He leaves me,--
In my last moments he abandons me.
STAUFFACHER.
He means his nephew. Have they sent for him?
FURST.
He has been summoned. Cheerily, Sir! Take comfort!
He has found his heart at last, and is our own.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Say, has he spoken for his native land?
STAUFFACHER.
Ay, like a hero!
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Wherefore comes he not,
That he may take my blessing ere I die?
I feel my life fast ebbing to a close.
STAUFFACHER.
Nay, talk not thus, dear Sir! This last short sleep
Has much refreshed you, and your eye is bright.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Life is but pain, and even that has left me;
My sufferings, like my hopes, have passed away.
[Observing the boy.
What boy is that?
FURST.
Bless him. Oh, good my lord!
He is my grandson, and is fatherless.
[HEDWIG kneels with the boy before the dying man.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
And fatherless I leave you all, ay, all!
Oh, wretched fate, that these old eyes should see
My country's ruin, as they close in death.
Must I attain the utmost verge of life,
To feel my hopes go with me to the grave.
STAUFFACHER (to FURST).
Shall he depart 'mid grief and gloom like this?
Shall not his parting moments be illumed
By hope's delightful beams? My noble lord,
Raise up your drooping spirit! We are not
Forsaken quite--past all deliverance.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Who shall deliver you?
FURST.
Ourselves. For know
The Cantons three are to each other pledged
To hunt the tyrants from the land. The league
Has been concluded, and a sacred oath
Confirms our union. Ere another year
Begins its circling course--the blow shall fall.
In a free land your ashes shall repose.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
The league concluded! Is it really so?
MELCHTHAL.
On one day shall the Cantons rise together.
All is prepared to strike--and to this hour
The secret closely kept though hundreds share it;
The ground is hollow 'neath the tyrant's feet;
Their days of rule are numbered, and ere long
No trace of their dominion shall remain.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Ay, but their castles, how to master them?
MELCHTHAL.
On the same day they, too, are doomed to fall.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
And are the nobles parties to this league?
STAUFFACHER.