Wilhelm Tell | Page 9

me. You, too, are fathers, heads of families, And you must wish to have a virtuous son To reverence your gray 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 undimmed and sparkling in their spheres; Oh, do not, therefore, disregard our wrongs! Above you, too, doth hang 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.
STAUFFACHER (to FURST). Do then 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 in the cause.
MELCHTHAL. Is there a name within the Forest Mountains That carries more respect than thine--and thine? To names like these the people cling for help With confidence--such names are household words. Rich was your heritage of manly virtue, And richly have you added to its stores. What need of nobles? Let us do the work Ourselves. Although we stood alone, methinks We should be able to maintain our rights.
STAUFFACHER. The nobles' 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 our 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?
MELCHTHAL. Thither send me. Whom should it more concern?
FURST. No, Melchthal, no; thou art my guest, and I Must answer for thy safety.
MELCHTHAL. Let me go. I know each forest track and mountain pass; Friends too I'll find, be sure, on every hand, To give me willing shelter from the foe.
STAUFFACHER. Nay, let him go; no traitors harbor there: For tyranny is so abhorred in Unterwald No minions can be found to work her will. In the low valleys, too, the Alzeller Will gain confederates and rouse the country.
MELCHTHAL. But how shall we communicate, and not Awaken the suspicion of the tyrants?
STAUFFACHER. Might we not meet at Brunnen or at Treib, Hard by the spot where merchant-vessels land?
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. 'Tis where our Canton boundaries verge on yours;--
[To MELCHTHAL.
Your boat will carry you across from Schwytz.
[To STAUFFACHER.
Thither by lonely by-paths 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 our onward course.
STAUFFACHER. 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 MELCHTHAL. In life and death.
[They hold their hands clasped together for some moments in silence.
MELCHTHAL. Alas, my old blind father! Thou canst no more behold the day of freedom; 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 darkened 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 gray-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.
RUDENZ. Uncle, I'm here! Your will?
ATTINGHAUSEN. 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 mountains. Thus slowly, in an ever-narrowing