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Wilhelm Tell

Page 13

by Friedrich Schiller


  FRIESS. (coming hastily down the pass and calls upon the stage) .

  Make way, make way! My lord, the Governor,

  Is close behind me, riding down the pass.

  [Exit TELL.]

  ARM. (excitedly).

  The Viceroy comes!

  [She goes towards the pass with her children, Gessler and Rudolph der

  Harras appear on horseback at the upper end of the pass.]

  STUSSI. (to Friess.).

  How got ye through the stream,

  When all the bridges have been carried down?

  FRIESS.

  We've fought, friend, with the tempest on the lake;

  An Alpine torrent's nothing after that.

  STUSSI.

  How! Were you out, then, in that dreadful storm?

  FRIESS.

  We were! I'll not forget it while I live.

  STUSSI.

  Stay, speak-

  FRIESS.

  I can't-must to the castle haste,

  And tell them, that the Governor's at hand.

  [Exit.]

  STUSSI.

  If honest men, now, had been in the ship,

  It had gone down with every soul on board:

  Some folks are proof 'gainst fire and water both.

  [Looking round.]

  Where has the huntsman gone with whom I spoke?

  [Exit.]

  [Enter Gessler and Rudolph der Harras on horseback.]

  GESSL.

  Say what you will; I am the Emperor's liege,

  And how to please him my first thought must be.

  He did not send me here to fawn and cringe,

  And coax these boors into good humour. No!

  Obedience he must have. The struggle's this:

  Is king or peasant to be sovereign here?

  ARM.

  Now is the moment! Now for my petition!

  GESSL.

  'Twas not in sport that I set up the cap

  In Altdorf-or to try the people's hearts-

  All this I knew before. I set it up

  That they might learn to bend those stubborn necks

  They carry far too proudly-and I placed

  What well I knew their pride could never brook

  Full in the road, which they perforce must pass,

  That, when their eye fell on it, they might call

  That lord to mind whom they too much forget.

  HAR.

  But surely, sir, the people have some rights-

  GESSL.

  This is not time to settle what they are.

  Great projects are at work, and hatching now.

  The imperial house seeks to extend its power.

  Those vast designs of conquest which the sire

  Has gloriously begun, the son will end.

  This petty nation is a stumbling-block-

  One way or other, it must be put down.

  [They are about to pass on. Armgart throws herself down before

  Gessler.]

  ARM.

  Mercy, Lord Governor! Oh, pardon, pardon!

  GESSL.

  Why do you cross me on the public road?

  Stand back, I say.

  ARM.

  My husband lies in prison;

  My wretched orphans cry for bread. Have pity,

  Pity, my lord, upon our sore distress!

  HAR.

  Who are you? and your husband, what is he?

  ARM.

  A poor wild hay-man of the Rigiberg,

  Kind sir, who on the brow of the abyss,

  Mows the unowner'd grass from craggy shelves,

  To which the very cattle dare not climb.

  HAR. (to GESSL.).

  By Heaven! a sad and pitiable life!

  I pray you set the wretched fellow free.

  How great soever may be his offence,

  His horrid trade is punishment enough.

  [To Armgart.]

  You shall have justice. To the castle bring

  Your suit. This is no place to deal with it.

  ARM.

  No, no, I will not stir from where I stand,

  Until your grace gives me my husband back.

  Six months already has he been shut up,

  And waits the sentence of a judge in vain.

  GESSL.

  How! would you force me, woman? Hence! Begone!

  ARM.

  Justice, my lord! Ay, justice! Thou art judge:

  Vice-regent of the Emperor-of Heaven.

  Then do thy duty,-as thou hopest for justice

  From Him who rules above, show it to us!

  GESSL.

  Hence! Drive this insolent rabble from my sight!

  ARM. (seizing his horse's reins).

  No, no, by Heaven, I've nothing more to lose-

  Thou stir'st not, Viceroy, from this spot, until

  Thou dost me fullest justice. Knit thy brows,

  And roll thine eyes-I fear not. Our distress

  Is so extreme, so boundless, that we care

  No longer for thine anger.

  GESSL.

  Woman, hence!

  Give way, or else my horse shall ride you down.

  ARM.

  Well, let it!-there-

  [Throws her children and herself upon the ground before him.]

  Here on the ground I lie,

  I and my children. Let the wretched orphans

  Be trodden by thy horse into the dust!

  It will not be the worst that thou hast done.

  HAR.

  Are you mad, woman?

  ARM. (continuing with vehemence).

  Many a day thou hast

  Trampled the Emperor's lands beneath thy feet.

  Oh, I am but a woman! Were I man,

  I'd find some better thing to do, than here

  Lie grovelling in the dust.

  [The music of the bridal party is again heard from the top of the

  pass, but more softly.]

  GESSL.

  Where are my knaves?

  Drag her away, lest I forget myself,

  And do some deed I may repent me of.

  HAR.

  My lord, the servants cannot force their way;

  The pass is block'd up by a bridal train.

  GESSL.

  Too mild a ruler am I to this people,

  Their tongues are all too bold-nor have they yet

  Been tamed to due submission, as they shall be.

  I must take order for the remedy;

  I will subdue this stubborn mood of theirs,

  This braggart spirit of freedom I will crush,

  I will proclaim a new law through the land;

  I will-

  [An arrow pierces him,-he puts his hand on his heart and is about to

  sink-with a feeble voice.]

  Oh God, have mercy on my soul!

  HAR.

  My lord! my lord! Oh God! What's this? Whence came it?

  ARM. (starts up).

  Dead, dead! He reels, he falls! 'Tis in his heart!

  HAR. (springs from his horse).

  Horror of horrors! Heavenly powers! Sir Knight,

  Address yourself for mercy to your God!

  You are a dying man.

  GESSL.

  That shot was Tell's.

  [He slides from his horse into the arms of Rudolph der Harras, who

  lays him down upon the bench. Tell appears above upon the rocks.]

  TELL.

  Thou know'st the marksman-I, and I alone.

  Now are our homesteads free, and innocence

  From thee is safe: thou'lt be our curse no more.

  [Tell disappears. People rush in.]

  STUSSI.

  What is the matter? Tell me what has happen'd?

  ARM.

  The Viceroy's shot,-pierced by a cross-bow bolt!

  PEOPLE (running in).

  Who has been shot?

  [While the foremost of the marriage party are coming on the stage, the
<
br />   hindmost are still upon the heights. The music continues.]

  HAR.

  He's bleeding fast to death.

  Away, for help-pursue the murderer!

  Unhappy man, is this to be your end?

  You would not listen to my warning words.

  STUSSI.

  By Heaven, his cheek is pale! Life's ebbing fast.

  MANY VOICES.

  Who did the deed?

  HAR.

  What! Are the people mad,

  That they make music to a murder? Silence!

  [Music breaks off suddenly. People continue to flock in.]

  Speak, if you can, my lord. Have you no charge

  To trust me with?

  [Gessler makes signs with his hand, which he repeats with vehemence,

  when he finds they are not understood.

  Where shall I take you to?

  To Kussnacht? What you say I can't make out.

  Oh, do not grow impatient! Leave all thought

  Of earthly things and make your peace with Heaven.

  [The whole marriage party gather round the dying man.]

  STUSSI.

  See there! how pale he grows! Death's gathering now

  About his heart;-his eyes grow dim and glazed.

  ARM. (holds up a child).

  Look, children, how a tyrant dies!

  HAR.

  Mad hag!

  Have you no touch of feeling, that your eyes

  Gloat on a sight so horrible as this?

  Help me-take hold. What, will not one assist

  To pull the torturing arrow from his breast?

  WOMEN.

  What! touch the man whom God's own hand has struck!

  HAR.

  All curses light on you!

  [Draws his sword.]

  STUSSI (seizes his arm).

  Gently, Sir Knight!

  Your power is at end. 'Twere best forbear.

  Our country's foe has fallen. We will brook

  No further violence. We are free men.

  ALL.

  The country's free.

  HAR.

  And is it come to this?

  Fear and obedience at an end so soon?

  [To the soldiers of the guard who are thronging in.]

  You see, my friends, the bloody piece of work

  Has here been done. 'Tis now too late for help,

  And to pursue the murderer were vain.

  We've other things to think of. On to Kussnacht.

  And let us save that fortress for the king!

  For in a moment such as this, all ties

  Of order, fealty and faith, are rent.

  And we can trust to no man's loyalty.

  [As he is going out with the soldiers, six Fratres Misericordiae

  appear.]

  ARM.

  Here comes the brotherhood of mercy. Room!

  STUSSI.

  The victim's slain, and now the ravens stoop.

  BROTHERS OF MERCY (form a semicircle round the body, and sing in

  solemn tones).

  Death hurries on with hasty stride,

  No respite man from him may gain,

  He cuts him down, when life's full tide

  Is throbbing strong in every vein.

  Prepared or not the call to hear,

  He must before his Judge appear.

  [While they are repeating the two last lines, the curtain falls .]

  ACT V.

  SCENE I.

  A common near Altdorf. In the background to the right the keep of Uri,

  with the scaffold still standing, as in the third scene of the first

  Act. To the left, the view opens upon numerous mountains, on all of

  which signal fires are burning. Day is breaking, and distant bells are

  heard ringing in several directions.

  Ruodi, Kuoni, Werni, Master Mason, and many other country people, also

  women and children.

  RUODI.

  See there! The beacons on the mountain heights!

  MASON.

  Hark how the bells above the forest toll!

  RUODI.

  The enemy's routed.

  MASON.

  And the forts are storm'd.

  RUODI.

  And we of Uri, do we still endure

  Upon our native soil the tyrant's keep?

  Are we the last to strike for liberty?

  MASON.

  Shall the yoke stand, that was to curb our necks?

  Up! Tear it to the ground!

  ALL.

  Down, down with it!

  RUODI.

  Where is the Stier of Uri?

  URI.

  Here. What would ye?

  RUODI.

  Up to your tower, and wind us such a blast,

  As shall resound afar, from peak to peak;

  Rousing the echoes of each glen and hill,

  To rally swiftly all the mountain men!

  [Exit Stier of Uri-Enter Walter Furst.]

  FURST.

  Stay, stay, my friends! As yet we have not learn'd

  What has been done in Unterwald and Schwytz.

  Let's wait till we receive intelligence!

  RUODI.

  Wait, wait for what? The accursed tyrant's dead

  And on us freedom's glorious day has dawn'd!

  MASON.

  How! Are these flaming signals not enough,

  That blaze on every mountain-top around?

  RUODI.

  Come all, fall to-come, men and women, all!

  Destroy the scaffold! Burst the arches! Down,

  Down with the walls, let not a stone remain!

  MASON.

  Come, comrades, come! We built it, and we know

  How best to hurl it down.

  ALL.

  Come! Down with it!

  [They fall upon the building on every side.]

  FURST.

  The floodgate's burst. They're not to be restrained.

  [Enter Melchthal and Baumgarten.]

  MELCH.

  What! Stands the fortress still, when Sarnen lies

  In ashes, and the Rossberg's in our hands?

  FURST.

  You, Melchthal, here? D'ye bring us liberty?

  Are all the Cantons from our tyrants freed?

  MELCH.

  We've swept them from the soil. Rejoice, my friend,

  Now, at this very moment, while we speak,

  There's not one tyrant left in Switzerland!

  FURST.

  How did you get the forts into your power?

  MELCH.

  Rudenz it was who by a bold assault

  With manly valour mastered Sarnen's keep.

  The Rossberg I had storm'd the night before.

  But hear, what chanced. Scarce had we driven the foe

  Forth from the keep, and given it to the flames,

  That now rose crackling upwards to the skies,

  When from the blaze rush'd Diethelm, Gessler's page,

  Exclaiming, "Lady Bertha will be burnt!"

  FURST.

  Good heavens!

  [The beams of the scaffold are heard falling.]

  MELCH.

  'Twas she herself. Here had she been

  By Gessler's orders secretly immured.

  Up sprang Rudenz in frenzy. For even now

  The beams and massive posts were crashing down,

  And through the stifling smoke the piteous shrieks

  Of the unhappy lady.

  FURST.

  Is she saved?

  MELCH.

  'Twas not a time to hesitate or pause!

  Had he been but our baron, and no more,

  We should have been most chary of our lives;

 

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