What, uncle, is the character you've stoop'd
To fill contentedly through life? Have you
No higher pride, than in these lonely wilds
To be the Landamman or Banneret,[*]
The petty chieftain of a shepherd race? How!
Were it not a far more glorious choice,
To bend in homage to our royal lord,
And swell the princely splendours of his court,
Than sit at home, the peer of your own vassals,
And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns?
[*] The Landamman was an officer chosen by the Swiss Gemeinde, or
Diet, to preside over them. The Banneret was an officer entrusted
with the keeping of the State Banner, and such others as were
taken in battle.
ATTING.
Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see,
The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear,
And pour'd its subtle poison in thy heart.
RUD.
Yes, I conceal it not. It doth offend
My inmost soul, to hear the stranger's gibes,
That taunt us with the name of "Peasant Nobles!"
Think you the heart that's stirring here can brook,
While all the young nobility around
Are reaping honour under Hapsburg's banner,
That I should loiter, in inglorious ease,
Here on the heritage my fathers left,
And, in the dull routine of vulgar toil,
Lose all life's glorious spring? In other lands
Great deeds are done. A world of fair renown
Beyond these mountains stirs in martial pomp.
My helm and shield are rusting in the hall;
The martial trumpet's spirit-stirring blast,
The herald's call, inviting to the lists,
Rouse not the echoes of these vales, where nought
Save cowherd's horn and cattle bell is heard,
In one unvarying dull monotony.
ATTING.
Deluded boy, seduced by empty show!
Despise the land that gave thee birth! Ashamed
Of the good ancient customs of thy sires!
The day will come, when thou, with burning tears,
Wilt long for home, and for thy native hills,
And that dear melody of tuneful herds,
Which now, in proud disgust, thou dost despise!
A day when wistful pangs shall shake thy heart,
Hearing their music in a foreign land.
Oh! potent is the spell that binds to home!
No, no, the cold, false world is not for thee.
At the proud court, with thy true heart, thou wilt
For ever feel a stranger among strangers.
The world asks virtues of far other stamp
Than thou hast learned within these simple vales.
But go-go thither,-barter thy free soul,
Take land in fief, be minion to a prince,
Where thou might'st be lord paramount, and prince
Of all thine own unburden'd heritage!
O, Uly, Uly, stay among thy people!
Go not to Altdorf. Oh, abandon not
The sacred cause of thy wrong'd native land!
I am the last of all my race. My name
Ends with me. Yonder hang my helm and shield;
They will be buried with me in the grave.[*]
And must I think, when yielding up my breath,
That thou but wait'st the closing of mine eyes,
To stoop thy knee to this new feudal court,
And take in vassalage from Austria's hands
The noble lands, which I from God received,
Free and unfetter'd as the mountain air!
[*] According to the custom, by which, when the last male descendant
of a noble family died, his sword, helmet, and shield were buried
with him.
RUD.
'Tis vain for us to strive against the king.
The world pertains to him:-shall we alone,
In mad presumptuous obstinacy, strive
To break that mighty chain of lands, which he
Hath drawn around us with his giant grasp?
His are the markets, his the courts,-his, too,
The highways; nay, the very carrier's horse,
That traffics on the Gotthardt, pays him toll.
By his dominions, as within a net,
We are enclosed, and girded round about.
And will the Empire shield us? Say, can it
Protect itself 'gainst Austria's growing power?
To God, and not to emperors must we look!
What store can on their promises be placed,
When they, to meet their own necessities,
Can pawn, and even alienate the towns
That flee for shelter 'neath the Eagle's wings?[*]
No, uncle! It is wise and wholesome prudence,
In times like these, when faction's all abroad,
To vow attachment to some mighty chief.
The imperial crown's transferred from line to line.[+]
It has no memory for faithful service:
But to secure the favour of these great
Hereditary masters, were to sow
Seed for a future harvest.
[*] This frequently occurred. But in the event of an imperial city
being mortgaged for the purpose of raising money, it lost its
freedom, and was considered as put out of the realm.
[+] An allusion to the circumstance of the Imperial Crown not being
hereditary, but conferred by election on one of the Counts of the
Empire.
ATTING.
Art so wise?
Wilt thou see clearer than thy noble sires,
Who battled for fair freedom's priceless gem,
With life, and fortune, and heroic arm?
Sail down the lake to Lucerne, there inquire,
How Austria's thraldom weighs the Cantons down.
Soon she will come to count our sheep, our cattle,
To portion out the Alps, e'en to their peaks,
And in our own free woods to hinder us
From striking down the eagle or the stag;
To set her tolls on every bridge and gate,
Impoverish us, to swell her lust of sway,
And drain our dearest blood to feed her wars.
No, if our blood must flow, let it be shed
In our own cause! We purchase liberty
More cheaply far than bondage.
RUD.
What can we,
A shepherd race, against great Albert's hosts?
ATTING.
Learn, foolish boy, to know this shepherd race!
I know them, I have led them on in fight,-
I saw them in the battle at Favenz.
What! Austria try, forsooth, to force on us
A yoke we are determined not to bear!
Oh, learn to feel from what a stock thou'rt sprung;
Cast not, for tinsel trash and idle show,
The precious jewel of thy worth away,
To be the chieftain of a free-born race,
Bound to thee only by their unbought love,
Ready to stand-to fight-to die with thee,
Be that thy pride, be that thy noblest boast!
Knit to thy heart the ties of kindred-home-
Cling to the land, the dear land of thy sires,
Grapple to that with thy whole heart and soul!
Thy power is rooted deep and strongly here,
But in yon stranger world thou'lt stand alone,
A trembling reed beat down by every blast.
Oh come! 'tis long since we have seen thee, Uly!
Tarry but this one day. Only to-day!
Go not to Altdorf. Wilt thou? Not to-day!
For this one day, bestow thee on thy friends.
[Takes his hand.]
>
RUD.
I gave my word. Unhand me! I am bound.
ATTING. (drops his hand and says sternly).
Bound, didst thou say? Oh yes, unhappy boy,
Thou art indeed. But not by word or oath.
'Tis by the silken mesh of love thou'rt bound.
[Rudenz turns away.]
Ah, hide thee, as thou wilt. 'Tis she,
I know, Bertha of Bruneck, draws thee to the court;
'Tis she that chains thee to the Emperor's service.
Thou think'st to win the noble knightly maid
By thy apostasy. Be not deceived.
She is held out before thee as a lure;
But never meant for innocence like thine.
RUD.
No more, I've heard enough. So fare you well.
[Exit.]
ATTING.
Stay, Uly! Stay! Rash boy, he's gone! I can
Nor hold him back, nor save him from destruction.
And so the Wolfshot has deserted us;-
Others will follow his example soon.
This foreign witchery, sweeping o'er our hills,
Tears with its potent spell our youth away.
O luckless hour, when men and manners strange
Into these calm and happy valleys came,
To warp our primitive and guileless ways!
The new is pressing on with might. The old,
The good, the simple, all flee fast away.
New times come on. A race is springing up,
That think not as their fathers thought before!
What do I hear? All, all are in the grave
With whom erewhile I moved, and held converse;
My age has long been laid beneath the sod;
Happy the man, who may not live to see
What shall be done by those that follow me!
SCENE II.
A meadow surrounded by high rocks and wooded ground. On the rocks are
tracks, with rails and ladders, by which the peasants are afterwards
seen descending. In the back-ground the lake is observed, and over it
a moon rainbow in the early part of the scene. The prospect is closed
by lofty mountains, with glaciers rising behind them. The stage is
dark, but the lake and glaciers glisten in the moonlight.
Melchthal, Baumgarten, Winkelried, Meyer von Sarnen, Burkhart am
Buhel, Arnold von Sewa, Klaus von der Flue, and four other peasants,
all armed.
MELCHTHAL (behind the scenes).
The mountain pass is open. Follow me!
I see the rock, and little cross upon it:
This is the spot; here is the Rootli.
[They enter with torches.]
WINK.
Hark!
SEWA.
The coast is clear.
MEYER.
None of our comrades come?
We are the first, we Unterwaldeners.
MELCH.
How far is't i' the night?
BAUM.
The beacon watch
Upon the Selisberg has just called two.
[A bell is heard at a distance.]
MEYER.
Hush! Hark!
BUHEL.
The forest chapel's matin bell
Chimes clearly o'er the lake from Switzerland.
VON F.
The air is clear, and bears the sound so far.
MELCH.
Go, you and you, and light some broken boughs,
Let's bid them welcome with a cheerful blaze.
[Two peasants exeunt.]
SEWA.
The moon shines fair to-night. Beneath its beams
The lake reposes, bright as burnish'd steel.
BUHEL.
They'll have an easy passage.
WINK. (pointing to the lake).
Ha! look there!
Do you see nothing?
MEYER.
Ay, indeed, I do!
A rainbow in the middle of the night.
MELCH.
Formed by the bright reflection of the moon!
VON F.
A sign most strange and wonderful, indeed!
Many there be, who ne'er have seen the like.
SEWA.
'Tis doubled, see, a paler one above!
BAUM.
A boat is gliding yonder right beneath it.
MELCH.
That must be Werner Stauffacher! I knew
The worthy patriot would not tarry long.
[Goes with Baumgarten towards the shore.]
MEYER.
The Uri men are like to be the last.
BUHEL.
They're forced to take a winding circuit through
The mountains; for the Viceroy's spies are out.
[In the meanwhile the two peasants have kindled a fire in the centre
of the stage.]
MELCH. (on the shore).
Who's there? The word?
STAUFF. (from below).
Friends of the country.
[All retire up the stage, towards the party landing from the boat.
Enter Stauffacher, Itel Reding, Hans auf der Mauer, Jorg im Hofe,
Conrad Hunn, Ulrich der Schmidt, Jost von Weiler, and three other
peasants, armed.
ALL.
Welcome!
[While the rest remain behind exchanging greetings, Melchthal comes
forward with Stauffacher.]
MELCH.
Oh, worthy Stauffacher, I've look'd but now
On him, who could not look on me again,
I've laid my hands upon his rayless eyes,
And on their vacant orbits sworn a vow
Of vengeance, only to be cool'd in blood.
STAUFF.
Speak not of vengeance. We are here, to meet
The threatened evil, not to avenge the past.
Now tell me what you've done, and what secured,
To aid the common cause in Unterwald.
How stand the peasantry disposed, and how
Yourself escaped the wiles of treachery?
MELCH.
Through the Surenen's fearful mountain chain,
Where dreary ice-fields stretch on every side,
And sound is none, save the hoarse vulture's cry,
I reach'd the Alpine pasture, where the herds
From Uri and from Engelberg resort,
And turn their cattle forth to graze in common.
Still as I went along, I slaked my thirst
With the coarse oozings of the glacier heights
that thro' the crevices come foaming down,
And turned to rest me in the herdsmen's cots,
Where I was host and guest, until I gain'd
The cheerful homes and social haunts of men.
Already through these distant vales had spread
The rumour of this last atrocity;
And wheresoe'er I went, at every door,
Kind words saluted me and gentle looks.
I found these simple spirits all in arms
Against our ruler's tyrannous encroachments.
For as their Alps through each succeeding year
Yield the same roots,-their streams flow ever on
In the same channels,-nay, the clouds and winds
The selfsame course unalterably pursue,
So have old customs there, from sire to son,
Been handed down, unchanging and unchanged;
Nor will they brook to swerve or turn aside
From the fixed even tenor of their life.
With grasp of their hard hands they welcomed me,-
Took from the walls their rusty falchions down,-
And from their eyes the soul of valour flash'd
With joyful lustre, as I spoke those names,
Sacred to every peasant in the mountains,
Your own and Walter Furst's. Whate'er your voice
Should dictate as the righ
t, they swore to do;
And you they swore to follow e'en to death.
So sped I on from house to house, secure
In the guest's sacred privilege;-and when
I reached at last the valley of my home,
Where dwell my kinsmen, scatter'd far and near-
And when I found my father, stript and blind,
Upon the stranger's straw, fed by the alms
Of charity-
STAUFF.
Great Heaven!
MELCH.
Yet wept I not!
No-not in weak and unavailing tears
Spent I the force of my fierce burning anguish;
Deep in my bosom, like some precious treasure,
I lock'd it fast, and thought on deeds alone.
Through every winding of the hills I crept,-
No valley so remote but I explored it;
Nay, at the very glacier's ice-clad base,
I sought and found the homes of living men;
And still, where'er my wandering footsteps turn'd,
The selfsame hatred of these tyrants met me.
For even there, at vegetation's verge,
Where the numb'd earth is barren of all fruits,
Their grasping hands had been for plunder thrust.
Into the hearts of all this honest race,
Wilhelm Tell Page 5