The sunny meads shall glow, the flow'rets 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 splendour floods my gaze.
STAUFF.
Ah, I must swell the measure of your grief,
Instead of soothing it. The worst, alas!
Remains to tell. They've stripp'd him of his all;
Nought have they left him, save his staff, on which,
Blind, and in rags, he moves from door to door.
MELCH.
Nought but his staff to the old eyeless man!
Stripp'd of his all-even of the light of day,
The common blessing of the meanest wretch?
Tell me no more of patience, of concealment!
Oh, what a base and coward thing am I,
That on mine own security I thought,
And took no care of thine! Thy precious head
Left as a pledge within the tyrant's grasp!
Hence, craven-hearted prudence, hence! And all
My thoughts be vengeance, and the despot's blood!
I'll seek him straight-no power shall stay me now-
And at his hands demand my father's eyes.
I'll beard him 'mid a thousand myrmidons!
What's life to me, if in his heart's best blood
I cool the fever of this mighty anguish?
[He is going.]
FURST.
Stay, this is madness, Melchthal! What avails
Your single arm against his power? He sits
At Sarnen high within his lordly keep,
And, safe within its battlemented walls,
May laugh to scorn your unavailing rage.
MELCH.
And though he sat within the icy domes
Of yon far Schreckhorn-ay, or higher, where,
Veil'd since eternity, the Jungfrau soars,
Still to the tyrant would I make my way;
With twenty comrades minded like myself,
I'd lay his fastness level with the earth!
And if none follow me, and if you all,
In terror for your homesteads and your herds,
Bow in submission to the tyrant's yoke,
Round me I'll call the herdsmen on the hills,
And there beneath heaven's free and boundless roof,
Where men still feel as men, and hearts are true,
Proclaim aloud this foul enormity!
STAUFF. (to Furst.)
The measure's full-and are we then to wait
Till some extremity-
MELCH.
Peace! What extremity
Remains for us to dread? What, when our eyes
No longer in their sockets are secure?
Heavens! Are we helpless? Wherefore did we learn
To bend the cross-bow,-wield the battle-axe?
What living creature but in its despair,
Finds for itself a weapon of defence?
The baited stag will turn, and with the show
Of his dread antlers hold the hounds at bay;
The chamois drags the hunstman down th' abyss,
The very ox, the partner of man's toil,
The sharer of his roof, that meekly bends
The strength of his huge neck beneath the yoke,
Springs up, if he's provoked, whets his strong horn,
And tosses his tormentor to the clouds.
FURST.
If the three Cantons thought as we three do,
Something might then be done, with good effect.
STAUFF.
When Uri calls, when Unterwald replies,
Schwytz will be mindful of her ancient league.[*]
[*] The League, or Bond, of the Three Cantons was of very ancient
origin. They met and renewed it from time to time, especially when
their liberties were threatened with danger. A remarkable instance
of this occurred in the end of the 13th century, when Albert of
Austria became Emperor, and when, possibly, for the first time,
the Bond was reduced to writing. As it is important to the
understanding of many passages of the play, a translation is
subjoined of the oldest known document relating to it. The
original, which is in Latin and German, is dated in August, 1291,
and is under the seals of the whole of the men of Schwytz, the
commonalty of the vale of Uri, and the whole of the men of the
upper and lower vales of Stanz.
THE BOND
Be it known to every one, that the men of the Dale of Uri, the
Community of Schwytz, as also the men of the mountains of
Unterwald, in consideration of the evil times, have full
confidently bound themselves, and sworn to help each other with
all their power and might, property and people, against all who
shall do violence to them, or any of them. That is our Ancient
Bond.
Whoever hath a Seignior, let him obey according to the conditions
of his service.
We are agreed to receive into these dales no Judge, who is not a
countryman and indweller, or who hath bought his place.
Every controversy amongst the sworn confederates shall be
determined by some of the sagest of their number, and if any one
shall challenge their judgment, then shall he be constrained to
obey it by the rest.
Whoever intentionally or deceitfully kills another, shall be
executed, and whoever shelters him shall be banished.
Whoever burns the property of another shall no longer be regarded
as a countryman, and whoever shelters him shall make good the
damage done.
Whoever injures another, or robs him, and hath property in our
country, shall make satisfaction out of the same.
No one shall distrain a debtor without a judge, nor any one who is
not his debtor, or the surety of such debtor.
Every one in these dales shall submit to the judge, or we, the
sworn confederates, all will take satisfaction for all the injury
occasioned by his contumacy. And if in any internal division the
one party will not accept justice, all the rest shall help the
other party. These decrees shall, God willing, endure eternally
for our general advantage.
MELCH.
I've many friends in Unterwald, and none
That would not gladly venture life and limb,
If fairly back'd and aided by the rest.
Oh! sage and reverend fathers of this land,
Here do I stand before your riper years,
An unskill'd youth, who in the Diet must
Into respectful silence hush his voice.
Yet do not, for that I am young, and want
Experience, slight my counsel and my words.
'Tis not the wantonness of youthful blood
That fires my spirit; but a pang so deep
That e'en the flinty rocks must pity me.
You, too, are fathers, heads of families,
And you must wish to have a virtuous son,
To reverence your grey hairs, and shield your eyes
With pious and affectionate regard.
Do not, I pray, because in limb and fortune
You still are unassailed, and still your eyes
Revolve undimm'd and sparkling in their spheres;
Oh, do not, therefore, disregard our wrongs!
Above you, also, hangs the tyrant's sword.
You, too, have striven to alienate the land
From Austria. This was all my father's crime:
You share his guilt, and may his punishment.
STAUFF. (to Furst).
Do thou resolve! I am prepared to follow.
FURST.
First let us learn what steps the noble lords
Von Sillinen and Attinghaus propose.
Their names would rally thousands to the cause.
MELCH.
Is there a name within the Forest Mountains
That carried more respect than yours-and yours?
On names like these the people build their trust
In time of need-such names are household words.
Rich was your heritage of manly worth,
And richly have you added to its stores.
What need of nobles? Let us do the work
Ourselves. Yes, though we have to stand alone,
We shall be able to maintain our rights.
STAUFF.
The noble's wrongs are not so great as ours.
The torrent, that lays waste the lower grounds,
Hath not ascended to the uplands yet.
But let them see the country once in arms,
They'll not refuse to lend a helping hand.
FURST.
Were there an umpire 'twixt ourselves and Austria,
Justice and law might then decide our quarrel.
But out oppressor is our Emperor too,
And judge supreme. 'Tis God must help us, then,
And our own arm! Be yours the task to rouse
The men of Schwytz. I'll rally friends in Uri.
But whom are we to send to Unterwald?
MELCH.
Thither send me. Whom should it more concern!
FURST.
No, Melchthal, no; you are my guest, and I
Must answer for your safety.
MELCH.
Let me go. I know each forest track and mountain path;
Friends too, I'll find, be sure, on every hand,
To give me willing shelter from the foe.
STAUFF.
Nay, let him go; no traitors harbour there:
For tyranny is so abhorred in Unterwald,
No tools can there be found to work her will.
In the low valleys, too, the Alzeller
Will gain confederates, and rouse the country.
MELCH.
But how shall we communicate, and not
Awaken the suspicion of the tyrants?
STAUFF.
Might we not meet at Brunnen or at Treib,
Where merchant vessels with their cargoes come?
FURST.
We must not go so openly to work.
Hear my opinion. On the lake's left bank,
As we sail hence to Brunnen, right against
The Mytenstein, deep-hidden in the wood
A meadow lies, by shepherds called the Rootli,
Because the wood has been uprooted there.
[To Melchthal.]
'Tis where our Canton bound'ries verge on yours;
[To Stauffacher.]
Your boat will carry you across from Schwytz.
Thither by lonely bypaths let us wend
At midnight, and deliberate o'er our plans.
Let each bring with him there ten trusty men,
All one at heart with us; and then we may
Consult together for the general weal,
And, with God's guidance, fix what next to do.
STAUFF.
So let it be. And now your true right hand!
Yours, too, young man! and as we now three men
Among ourselves thus knit our hands together
In all sincerity and truth, e'en so
Shall we three cantons, too, together stand
In victory and defeat, in life and death.
FURST and MELCH.
In life and death!
[They hold their hands clasped together for some moments in silence.]
MELCH.
Alas, my old blind father!
The day of freedom, that thou canst not see,
But thou shalt hear it, when from Alp to Alp
The beacon fires throw up their flaming signs,
And the proud castles of the tyrants fall,
Into thy cottage shall the Switzer burst,
Bear the glad tidings to thine ear, and o'er
Thy darken'd way shall Freedom's radiance pour.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
The mansion of the Baron of Attinghausen. A Gothic Hall, decorated
with escutcheons and helmets. The Baron, a grey-headed man, eighty-
five years old, tall and of a commanding mien, clad in a furred
pelisse, and leaning on a staff tipped with chamois horn. Kuoni and
six hinds standing round him with rakes and scythes. Ulrich of Rudenz
enters in the costume of a knight.
RUD.
Uncle, I'm here! Your will?
ATTING.
First let me share,
After the ancient custom of our house,
The morning cup, with these my faithful servants!
[He drinks from a cup, which is then passed round.]
Time was, I stood myself in field and wood,
With mine own eyes directing all their toil,
Even as my banner led them in the fight,
Now I am only fit to play the steward:
And, if the genial sun come not to me,
I can no longer seek it on the hills.
Thus slowly, in an ever-narrowing sphere,
I move on to the narrowest and the last,
Where all life's pulses cease. I now am but
The shadow of my former self, and that
Is fading fast-'twill soon be but a name.
KUONI (offering Rudenz the cup).
A pledge, young master!
[Rudenz hesitates to take the cup.]
Nay, Sir, drink it off!
One cup, one heart! You know our proverb, Sir?
ATTING.
Go, children, and at eve, when work is done,
We'll meet and talk the country's business over.
[Exeunt servants.]
Belted and plumed, and all thy bravery on!
Thou art for Altdorf-for the castle, boy?
RUD.
Yes, uncle. Longer may I not delay-
ATTING. (sitting down).
Why in such haste? Say, are thy youthful hours
Doled in such niggard measure, that thou must
Be chary of them to thy aged uncle?
RUD.
I see my presence is not needed here,
I am but as a stranger in this house.
ATTING. (gazes fixedly at him for a considerable time).
Ay, pity 'tis thou art! Alas, that home
To thee has grown so strange! Oh, Uly! Uly!
I scarce do know thee now, thus deck'd in silks,
The peacock's feather[*] flaunting in thy cap,
And purple mantle round thy shoulders flung;
Thou look'st upon the peasant with disdain;
And tak'st his honest greeting with a blush.
[*] The Austrian knights were in the habit of wearing a plume of
peacock's feathers in their helmets. After the overthrow of the
Austrian dominion in Switzerland, it was made highly penal to wear
the peacock's feather at any public assembly there.
RUD.
All honour due to him I gladly pay,
But must deny the right he would usurp.
ATTING.
The sore displeasure of its monarch rests
Upon our land, and every true man's heart,
Is full of sadness for the grievous wrongs
We suffer from our tyrants. Thou alone
Art all unmoved amid the general grief.
Abandoning thy friends, thou tak'st thy stand
&nb
sp; Beside thy country's foes, and, as in scorn
Of our distress, pursuest giddy joys,
Courting the smiles of princes all the while
Thy country bleeds beneath their cruel scourge.
RUD.
The land is sore oppress'd, I know it, uncle.
But why? Who plunged it into this distress?
A word, one little easy word, might buy
Instant deliverance from all our ills,
And win the good will of the Emperor.
Woe unto those who seal the people's eyes.
And make them adverse to their country's good-
The men who, for their own vile, selfish ends,
Are seeking to prevent the Forest States
From swearing fealty to Austria's House,
As all the countries round about have done.
It fits their humour well, to take their seats
Amid the nobles on the Herrenbank;[*]
They'll have the Kaiser for their lord, forsooth,
That is to say, they'll have no lord at all.
[*] The bench reserved for the nobility.
ATTING.
Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy!
RUD.
You urged me to this answer. Hear me out.
Wilhelm Tell Page 4