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The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 03

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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 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?

RUDENZ.

Yes, uncle. Longer may I not delay—

ATTINGHAUSEN (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?

RUDENZ.

I see my presence is not needed here;

I am but as a stranger in this house.

ATTINGHAUSEN (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[45] 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.

RUDENZ.

All honor 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

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.

RUDENZ.

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 humor well, to take their seats

Amid the nobles on the Herrenbank;[46]

They'll have the Kaiser for their lord, forsooth—

That is to say, they'll have no lord at all.

ATTING.

Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy!

RUDENZ.

You urged me to this answer. Hear me out.

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,[47]

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 splendors of his court,

Than sit at home, the peer of your own vassals,

And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns?

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.

RUDENZ.

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 honor under Habsburg'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 naught

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

Forever 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.[48]

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!

RUDENZ.

'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 inclosed, 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?[49]

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.[50]

It has no memory for faithful service

But to secure the favor of these great

Hereditary masters, were to sow

Seed for a future harvest.

ATTINGHAUSEN.

 
                              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 Lucern, 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.

RUDENZ.

 
                         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 of 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 today!

Go not to Altdorf. Wilt thou? Not today!

For this one day, bestow thee on thy friends.

[Takes his hand.]

RUDENZ.

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.]

Ay, 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 apostacy. Be not deceived.

She is held out before thee as a lure;

But never meant for innocence like thine.

RUDENZ.

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 fleet 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 afterward seen descending. In the background 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.]

WINKELRIED.

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?

BAUMGARTEN.

 
                    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 tonight. 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 toward 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.] MELCHTHAL (on the shore).

Who's there? The word?

STAUFFACHER (from below).

Friends of the country.

[All retire up the stage, toward 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,[51]

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 rumor 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 rulers' 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 valor flash'd

With joyful lustre, as I spoke those names,

Sacred to every peasant in the mountains,

Your own and Walter Fürst's. Whate'er your voice

Should dictate as the right, 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—

STAUFFACHER.

Great heavens!

MELCHTHAL.

 
                  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

The story of my wrongs struck deep, and now

They, to a man, are ours; both heart and hand.

STAUFF.

Great things, indeed, you've wrought in little time.

MELCH.

I did still more than this. The fortresses,

Rossberg and Sarnen, are the country's dread;

For from behind their adamantine walls

The foe, like eagle from his eyrie swoops,

And, safe himself, spreads havoc o'er the land.

With my own eyes I wish'd to weigh its strength,

So went to Sarnen, and explored the castle.

STAUFF.

How! Venture even into the tiger's den?

MELCH.

Disguised in pilgrim's weeds I entered it;

I saw the Viceroy feasting at his board—

Judge if I'm master of myself or no!

I saw the tyrant, and I slew him not!

STAUFF.

Fortune, indeed, upon your boldness smiled.

[Meanwhile the others have arrived and join MELCHTHAL and STAUFFACHER.]

Yet tell me now, I pray, who are the friends,

The worthy men, who came along with you

Make me acquainted with them, that we may

Speak frankly, man to man, and heart to heart.

MEYER.

In the three Cantons, who, sir, knows not you?

Meyer of Sarnen is my name; and this

Is Struth of Winkelried, my sister's son.

STAUFF.

No unknown name. A Winkelried it was

Who slew the dragon in the fen at Weiler,

And lost his life in the encounter, too.

WINK.

That, Master Stauffacher, was my grandfather.

MELCHTHAL (pointing to two peasants).

These two are men who till the cloister lands

Of Engelberg, and live behind the forest.

You'll not think ill of them, because they're serfs,

And sit not free upon the soil, like us;

They love the land, and bear a good repute.

STAUFFACHER (to them).

Give me your hands. He has good cause for thanks

That to no man his body's service owes.

But worth is worth, no matter where 'tis found.

HUNN.

That is Herr Reding, sir, our old Landamman;

MEYER.

I know him well. I am at law with him

About a piece of ancient heritage.

Herr Reding, we are enemies in court—

Here we are one.

[Shakes his hand.]

STAUFFACHER.

That's well and bravely said.

WINK. Listen! They come. The horn of Uri! Hark!

[On the right and left armed men are seen descending the rocks with torches.]

MAUER.

Look, is not that the holy man of God?

A worthy priest! The terrors of the night,

And the way's pains and perils scare not him,

A faithful shepherd caring for his flock.

BAUM. The Sacrist follows him, and Walter Fürst.

But where is Tell? I do not see him there.

[WALTER FÜRST, RÖSSELMANN the Pastor, PETERMANN the Sacrist, KUONI the Shepherd WERNI the Huntsman, RUODI the Fisherman, and other countrymen, thirty-three in all, advance and take their places round the fire.]

 

FÜRST.

Thus must we, on the soil our fathers left us,

Creep forth by stealth to meet like murderers,

And in the night, that should her mantle lend

Only to, crime and black conspiracy,

Assert our own good rights which yet are clear

As is the radiance of the noonday sun.

MELCH.

So be it. What is hatch'd in gloom of night

Shall free and boldly meet the morning light.

RÖSSEL.

Confederates! Listen to the words which God

Inspires my heart withal. Here we are met,

To represent the general weal. In us

Are all the people of the land convened.

Then let us hold the Diet, as of old,

And as we're wont in peaceful times to do.

The time's necessity be our excuse,

If there be aught informal in this meeting.

Still, wheresoe'er men strike for justice, there

Is God, and now beneath His heav'n we stand.

STAUFF.

'Tis well advised.—Let us, then, hold the Diet,

According to our ancient usages.—

Though it be night, there's sunshine in our cause.

MELCH.

Few though our numbers be, the hearts are here

Of the whole people; here the BEST are met.

HUNN.

The ancient books may not be near at hand,

Yet are they graven in our inmost hearts.

RÖSSEL.

'Tis well. And now, then, let a ring be formed,

And plant the swords of power within the ground.[52]

MAUER.

Let the Landamman step into his place,

And by his side his secretaries stand.

SACRIST.

There are three Cantons here. Which hath the right

To give the head to the united Council?

Schwytz may contest that dignity with Uri;

We Unterwald'ners enter not the field.

MELCH.

We stand aside. We are but suppliants here,

Invoking aid from our more potent friends.

STAUFF.

Let Uri have the sword. Her banner takes,

In battle, the precedence of our own.

FÜRST.

Schwytz, then, must share the honor of the sword;

For she's the honored ancestor of all.

RÖSSEL.

Let me arrange this generous controversy.

Uri shall lead in battle—Schwytz in Council.

FÜRST (gives STAUFFACHER his hand).

Then take your place.

STAUFFACHER.

Not I. Some older man.

HOFE.

Ulrich, the Smith, is the most aged here.

MAUER.

A worthy man, but not a freeman; no!

–No bondman can be judge in Switzerland.

STAUFF.

Is not Herr Reding here, our old Landamman!

Where can we find a worthier man than he?

FÜRST.

Let him be Amman and the Diet's chief!

You that agree with me, hold up your hands!

[All hold up their right hands.]

REDING (stepping into the centre).

I cannot lay my hands upon the books;

But by yon everlasting stars I swear,

Never to swerve from justice and the right.

[The two swords are placed before him, and a circle formed; Schwytz in the centre, Uri on his right, Unterwald on his left.]

REDING (resting on his battle sword).

Why, at the hour when spirits walk the earth,

Meet the three Cantons of the mountains here,

Upon the lake's inhospitable shore?

What may the purport be of this new league

We here contract beneath the starry heaven?

STAUFFACHER (entering the circle).

'Tis no new league that here we now contract;

But one our fathers framed, in ancient times,

We purpose to renew! For know, confederates,

Though mountain ridge and lake divide our bounds,

And each Canton by its own laws is ruled,

Yet are we but one race, born of one blood,

And all are children of one common home.

WINK.

Is then the burden of our legends true,

That we came hither from a distant land?

Oh, tell us what you know, that our new league

May reap fresh vigor from the leagues of old.

STAUFF.

Hear, then, what aged herdsmen tell. There dwelt

A mighty people in the land that lies

Back to the north. The scourge of famine came;

And in this strait 'twas publicly resolved

That each tenth man, on whom the lot might fall,

Should leave the country. They obey'd—and forth,

With loud lamentings, men and women went,

A mighty host; and to the south moved on,

Cutting their way through Germany by the sword,

Until they gained these pine-clad hills of ours;

Nor stopp'd they ever on their forward course,

Till at the shaggy dell they halted where

The Müta flows through its luxuriant meads.

No trace of human creature met their eye,

Save one poor hut upon the desert shore,

Where dwelt a lonely man, and kept the ferry.

A tempest raged—the lake rose mountains high

And barr'd their further progress. Thereupon

They view'd the country—found it rich in wood,

Discover'd goodly springs, and felt as they

Were in their own dear native land once more.

Then they resolved to settle on the spot;

Erected there the ancient town of Schwytz;

And many a day of toil had they to clear

The tangled brake and forest's spreading roots.

Meanwhile their numbers grew, the soil became

Unequal to sustain them, and they cross'd

To the black mountain, far as Weissland, where,

Conceal'd behind eternal walls of ice,

Another people speak another tongue.

They built the village of Stanz, beside the Kernwald;

The village Altdorf, in the vale of Reuss;

Yet, ever mindful of their parent stem,

The men of Schwytz, from all the stranger race

That since that time have settled in the land,

Each other recognize. Their hearts still know,

And beat fraternally to kindred blood.

[Extends his hand right and left.]

MAUER.

Ay, we are all one heart, one blood, one race!

ALL (joining hands).

We are one people, and will act as one.

STAUFF.

The nations round us bear a foreign yoke;

For they have to the conqueror succumbed.

Nay, e'en within our frontiers may be found

Some, that owe villein service to a lord,

A race of bonded serfs from sire to son.

But we, the genuine race of ancient Swiss,

Have kept our freedom from the first till now.

Never to princes have we bow'd the knee;

Freely we sought protection of the Empire.

RÖSSEL.

Freely we sought it—freely it was given.

'Tis so set down in Emperor Frederick's charter.

STAUFF.

For the most free have still some feudal lord.

There must be still a chief, a judge supreme,

To whom appeal may lie, in case of strife.

And therefore was it that our sires allow'd,

For what they had recover'd from the waste,

This honor to the Emperor, the lord

Of all the German and Italian soil;

And, like the other free men of his realm,

Engaged to aid him with their swords in war;

The free man's duty this alone should be,

To guard the Empire that keeps guard for him.

MELCH.

He's but a slave that would acknowledge more.

STAUFF.

They followed, when the Heribann[53] went forth,

The imperial standard, and they fought its battles!

To Italy they march'd in arms, to place

The Cæsars' crown upon the Emperor's head.

But still at home they ruled themselves in peace

By their own laws and ancient usages.

The Emperor's only right was to adjudge

The penalty of death; he therefore named

Some mighty noble as his delegate,

That had no stake or interest in the land,

Who was call'd in, when doom was to be pass'd,

And, in the face of day, pronounced decree,

Clear and distinctly, fearing no man's hate.

What traces here, that we are bondsmen? Speak,

If there be any can gainsay my words!

HOFE.

No! You have spoken but the simple truth;

We never stoop'd beneath a tyrant's yoke.

STAUFF.

Even to the Emperor we did not submit,

When he gave judgment 'gainst us for the church;

For when the Abbey of Einsiedlen claimed

The Alp our fathers and ourselves had grazed,

And showed an ancient charter which bestowed

The land on them as being ownerless—

For our existence there had been concealed—

What was our answer? This: "The grant is void.

No Emperor can bestow what is our own

And if the Empire shall deny our rights,

We can, within our mountains, right ourselves!"

Thus spake our fathers! And shall we endure

The shame and infamy of this new yoke,

And from the vassal brook what never king

Dared, in his plenitude of power, attempt?

This soil we have created for ourselves,

By the hard labor of our hands; we've changed

The giant forest, that was erst the haunt

Of savage bears, into a home for man;

Extirpated the dragon's brood, that wont

To rise, distent with venom, from the swamps;

Rent the thick misty canopy that hung

Its blighting vapors on the dreary waste;

Blasted the solid rock; across the chasm

Thrown the firm bridge for the wayfaring man.

By the possession of a thousand years

The soil is ours. And shall an alien lord,

Himself a vassal, dare to venture here,

Insult us by our own hearth fires—attempt

To forge the chains of bondage for our hands,

And do us shame on our own proper soil?

Is there no help against such wrong as this?

[Great sensation among the people.]

Yes! there's a limit to the despot's power!

When the oppress'd for justice looks in vain,

When his sore burden may no more be borne,

With fearless heart he makes appeal to Heaven,

And thence brings down his everlasting rights,

Which there abide, inalienably his,

And indestructible as are the stars.

Nature's primeval state returns again,

Where man stands hostile to his fellow man;

And if all other means shall fail his need,

One last resource remains—his own good sword.

Our dearest treasures call to us for aid

Against the oppressor's violence; we stand

For country, home, for wives, for children here!

ALL (clashing their swords).

Here stand we for our homes, our wives, and children.

RÖSSELMANN (stepping into the circle).

Bethink ye well, before ye draw the sword.

Some peaceful compromise may yet be made;

Speak but one word, and at your feet you'll see

The men who now oppress you. Take the terms

That have been often tendered you; renounce

The Empire, and to Austria swear allegiance!

MAUER.

What says the priest? To Austria allegiance?

BUHEL.

Hearken not to him!

WINKELRIED.

 
                    'Tis a traitor's counsel,
 

His country's foe!

REDING.

Peace, peace, confederates!

SEWA.

Homage to Austria, after wrongs like these!

FLUE.

Shall Austria extort from us by force

What we denied to kindness and entreaty?

MEYER.

Then should we all be slaves, deservedly.

MAUER.

Yes! Let him forfeit all a Switzer's rights,

Who talks of yielding thus to Austria's yoke!

I stand on this, Landamman. Let this be

The foremost of our laws!

MELCHTHAL.

 
                      Even so! Whoe'er
 

Shall talk of bearing Austria's yoke, let him

Of all his rights and honors be despoiled,

No man thenceforth receive him at his hearth!

ALL (raising their right hands).

Agreed! Be this the law!

REDING (after a pause).

The law it is.

RÖSSEL.

Now you are free—this law hath made you free.

Never shall Austria obtain by force

What she has fail'd to gain by friendly suit.

WEIL.

On with the order of the day! Proceed!

REDING.

Confederates! Have all gentler means been tried?

Perchance the Emp'ror knows not of our wrongs;

It may not be his will we suffer thus

Were it not well to make one last attempt,

And lay our grievances before the throne,

Ere we unsheath the sword? Force is at best

A fearful thing e'en in a righteous cause;

God only helps, when man can help no more.

STAUFFACHER (to KONRAD HUNN).

Here you can give us information. Speak!

HUNN.

I was at Rheinfeld, at the Emperor's Court,

Deputed by the Cantons to complain

Of the oppressions of these governors,

And of our liberties the charter claim

Which each new king till now has ratified.

I found the envoys there of many a town,

From Suabia and the valley of the Rhine,

Who all received their parchments as they wish'd,

And straight went home again with merry heart.

But me, your envoy, they to the council sent,

Where I with empty cheer was soon dismiss'd.

"The Emperor at present was engaged;

Some other time he would attend to us!"

I turn'd away, and passing through the hall,

With heavy heart, in a recess I saw

The Grand Duke John[54] in tears, and by his side

The noble lords of Wart and Tegerfeld,