Wilhelm Tell Part 33

RUDENZ.

When we have set the country free, we'll place Our fresh, victorious wreaths upon his bier.

Oh, my dear friends, 'tis not your cause alone!

I have a cause to battle with the tyrants That more concerns myself. Know, that my Bertha Has disappeared,--been carried off by stealth, Stolen from amongst us by their ruffian bands!

STAUFFACHER.

And has the tyrant dared so fell an outrage Against a lady free and n.o.bly born?

RUDENZ.

Alas! my friends, I promised help to you, And I must first implore it for myself?

She that I love is stolen--is forced away, And who knows where the tyrant has concealed her.

Or with what outrages his ruffian crew May force her into nuptials she detests?

Forsake me not! Oh help me to her rescue!

She loves you! Well, oh well, has she deserved That all should rush to arms in her behalf.

STAUFFACHER.

What course do you propose?

RUDENZ.

Alas! I know not.

In the dark mystery that shrouds her fate, In the dread agony of this suspense, Where I can grasp at naught of certainty, One single ray of comfort beams upon me.

From out the ruins of the tyrant's power Alone can she be rescued from the grave.

Their strongholds must be levelled! Everyone, Ere we can pierce into her gloomy prison.

MELCHTHAL.

Come, lead us on! We follow! Why defer Until to-morrow what to-day may do?

Tell's arm was free when we at Rootli swore, This foul enormity was yet undone.

And change of circ.u.mstance brings change of law.

Who such a coward as to waver still?

RUDENZ (to WALTER FURST).

Meanwhile to arms, and wait in readiness The fiery signal on the mountain-tops.

For swifter than a boat can scour the lake Shall you have tidings of our victory; And when you see the welcome flames ascend, Then, like the lightning, swoop upon the foe, And lay the despots and their creatures low!

SCENE III.

The pa.s.s near Kuessnacht, sloping down from behind, with rocks on either side. The travellers are visible upon the heights, before they appear on the stage. Rocks all round the stage. Upon one of the foremost a projecting cliff overgrown with brushwood.

TELL (enters with his crossbow).

Here through this deep defile he needs must pa.s.s; There leads no other road to Kuessnacht; here I'll do it; the opportunity is good.

Yon alder tree stands well for my concealment, Thence my avenging shaft will surely reach him.

The straitness of the path forbids pursuit.

Now, Gessler, balance thine account with Heaven!

Thou must away from earth, thy sand is run.

I led a peaceful, inoffensive life; My bow was bent on forest game alone, And my pure soul was free from thoughts of murder.

But thou hast scared me from my dream of peace; The milk of human kindness thou hast turned To rankling poison in my breast, and made Appalling deeds familiar to my soul.

He who could make his own child's head his mark Can speed his arrow to his foeman's heart.

My children dear, my loved and faithful wife, Must be protected, tyrant, from thy fury!

When last I drew my bow, with trembling hand, And thou, with murderous joy, a father forced To level at his child; when, all in vain, Writhing before thee, I implored thy mercy, Then in the agony of my soul I vowed A fearful oath, which met G.o.d's ear alone, That when my bow next winged an arrow's flight Its aim should be thy heart. The vow I made Amid the h.e.l.lish torments of that moment I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it.

Thou art my lord, my emperor's delegate, Yet would the emperor not have stretched his power So far as thou. He sent thee to these Cantons To deal forth law, stern law, for he is angered; But not to wanton with unbridled will In every cruelty, with fiendlike joy: There is a G.o.d to punish and avenge.

Come forth, thou bringer once of bitter pangs, My precious jewel now, my chiefest treasure; A mark I'll set thee, which the cry of grief Could never penetrate, but thou shalt pierce it.

And thou, my trusty bowstring, that so oft Has served me faithfully in sportive scenes, Desert me not in this most serious hour-- Only be true this once, my own good cord, That has so often winged the biting shaft:-- For shouldst thou fly successless from my hand, I have no second to send after thee.

[Travellers pa.s.s over the stage.

I'll sit me down upon this bench of stone, Hewn for the wayworn traveller's brief repose-- For here there is no home. Each hurries by The other, with quick step and careless look, Nor stays to question of his grief. Here goes The merchant, full of care--the pilgrim next, With slender scrip--and then the pious monk, The scowling robber, and the jovial player, The carrier with his heavy-laden horse, That comes to us from the far haunts of men; For every road conducts to the world's end.

They all push onwards--every man intent On his own several business--mine is murder.

[Sits down.

Time was, my dearest children, when with joy You hailed your father's safe return to home From his long mountain toils; for when he came He ever brought some little present with him.

A lovely Alpine flower--a curious bird-- Or elf-boat found by wanderers on the hills.

But now he goes in quest of other game: In the wild pa.s.s he sits, and broods on murder; And watches for the life-blood of his foe, But still his thoughts are fixed on you alone, Dear children. 'Tis to guard your innocence, To s.h.i.+eld you from the tyrant's fell revenge, He bends his bow to do a deed of blood!

[Rises.

Well--I am watching for a n.o.ble prey-- Does not the huntsman, with severest toil, Roam for whole days amid the winter's cold, Leap with a daring bound from rock to rock,-- And climb the jagged, slippery steeps, to which His limbs are glued by his own streaming blood; And all this but to gain a wretched chamois.

A far more precious prize is now my aim-- The heart of that dire foe who would destroy me.

[Sprightly music heard in the distance, which comes gradually nearer.

From my first years of boyhood I have used The bow--been practised in the archer's feats; The bull's-eye many a time my shafts have hit, And many a goodly prize have I brought home, Won in the games of skill. This day I'll make My master-shot, and win the highest prize Within the whole circ.u.mference of the mountains.

[A marriage train pa.s.ses over the stage, and goes up the pa.s.s. TELL gazes at it, leaning on his bow. He is joined by STUSSI, the Ranger.

STUSSI.

There goes the bridal party of the steward Of Moerlischachen's cloister. He is rich!

And has some ten good pastures on the Alps.

He goes to fetch his bride from Imisee, There will be revelry to-night at Kuessnacht.

Come with us--every honest man's invited.

TELL.

A gloomy guest fits not a wedding feast.

STUSSI.

If grief oppress you, dash it from your heart!

Bear with your lot. The times are heavy now, And we must s.n.a.t.c.h at pleasure while we can.

Here 'tis a bridal, there a burial.

TELL.

And oft the one treads close upon the other.

STUSSI.

So runs the world at present. Everywhere We meet with woe and misery enough.