Eastern shore of the Lake of Lucerne; rugged and singularly shaped rocks close the prospect to the west. The lake is agitated, violent roaring and rushing of wind, with thunder and lightning at intervals. KUNZ OF GERSAU, FISHERMAN and BOY. KUNZ. I saw it with these eyes! Believe me, friend, It happen'd all precisely as I've said. FISHERMAN. Tell, made a prisoner, and borne off to Kuessnacht? The best man in the land, the bravest arm, Had we resolved to strike for liberty! KUNZ. The Viceroy takes him up the lake in person: They were about to go on board, as I Left Flueelen; but still the gathering storm, That drove me here to land so suddenly, Perchance has hindered their abrupt departure. FISHERMAN. Our Tell in chains, and in the viceroy's power! Oh, trust me, Gessler will entomb him where He never more shall see the light of day; For, Tell once free, the tyrant well may dread The just revenge of one so deep incensed. KUNZ. The old Landamman, too—von Attinghaus— They say, is lying at the point of death. FISHERMAN. Then the last anchor of our hopes gives way! He was the only man who dared to raise His voice in favor of the people's rights. KUNZ. The storm grows worse and worse. So, fare ye well! I'll go and seek out quarters in the village. There's not a chance of getting off to-day. [Exit. FISHERMAN. Tell dragged to prison, and the baron dead! Now, tyranny, exalt thy insolent front— Throw shame aside! The voice of truth is silenced, The eye that watched for us in darkness closed, The arm that should have struck thee down in chains! BOY. 'Tis hailing hard—come, let us to the cottage This is no weather to be out in, father! FISHERMAN. Rage on, ye winds! Ye lightnings, flash your fires! Burst, ye swollen clouds! Ye cataracts of heaven, Descend, and drown the country! In the germ, Destroy the generations yet unborn! Ye savage elements, be lords of all! Return, ye bears; ye ancient wolves, return To this wide, howling waste! The land is yours. Who would live here when liberty is gone? BOY. Hark! How the wind whistles and the whirlpool roars; I never saw a storm so fierce as this! FISHERMAN. To level at the head of his own child! Never had father such command before. And shall not nature, rising in wild wrath, Revolt against the deed? I should not marvel, Though to the lake these rocks should bow their heads, Though yonder pinnacles, yon towers of ice, That, since creation's dawn, have known no thaw, Should, from their lofty summits, melt away; Though yonder mountains, yon primeval cliffs, Should topple down, and a new deluge whelm Beneath its waves all living men's abodes! [Bells heard. BOY. Hark! they are ringing on the mountain yonder! They surely see some vessel in distress, And toll the bell that we may pray for it. [Ascends a rock. FISHERMAN. Woe to the bark that now pursues its course, Rocked in the cradle of these storm-tossed waves. Nor helm nor steersman here can aught avail; The storm is master. Man is like a ball, Tossed 'twixt the winds and billows. Far, or near, No haven offers him its friendly shelter! Without one ledge to grasp, the sheer, smooth rocks Look down inhospitably on his despair, And only tender him their flinty breasts. BOY (calling from above). Father, a ship; and bearing down from Flueelen. FISHERMAN. Heaven pity the poor wretches! When the storm Is once entangled in this strait of ours, It rages like some savage beast of prey, Struggling against its cage's iron bars. Howling, it seeks an outlet—all in vain; For the rocks hedge it round on every side, Walling the narrow pass as high as heaven. [He ascends a cliff. BOY. It is the governor of Uri's ship; By its red poop I know it, and the flag. FISHERMAN. Judgments of Heaven! Yes, it is he himself. It is the governor! Yonder he sails, And with him bears the burden of his crimes! Soon has the arm of the avenger found him; Now over him he knows a mightier lord. These waves yield no obedience to his voice, These rocks bow not their heads before his cap. Boy, do not pray; stay not the Judge's arm! BOY. I pray not for the governor; I pray For Tell, who is on board the ship with him. FISHERMAN. Alas, ye blind, unreasoning elements! Must ye, in punishing one guilty head, Destroy the vessel and the pilot too? BOY. See, see, they've cleared the Buggisgrat; but now The blast, rebounding from the Devil's Minster, Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg. I cannot see them now. FISHERMAN. The Hakmesser Is there, that's foundered many a gallant ship. If they should fail to double that with skill, Their bark will go to pieces on the rocks That hide their jagged peaks below the lake. They have on board the very best of pilots; If any man can save them, Tell is he; But he is manacled, both hand and foot. [Enter WILLIAM TELL, with his crossbow. He enters precipitately, looks wildly round, and testifies the most violent agitation. When he reaches the centre of the stage, he throws himself upon his knees, and stretches out his hands, first towards the earth, then towards heaven. BOY (observing him). See, father! Who is that man, kneeling yonder? FISHERMAN. He clutches at the earth with both his hands, And looks as though he were beside himself. BOY (advancing). What do I see? Father, come here, and look! FISHERMAN (approaches). Who is it? God in heaven! What! William Tell, How came you hither? Speak, Tell! BOY. Were you not In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains? FISHERMAN. Were they not bearing you away to Kuessnacht? TELL (rising). I am released. FISHERMAN and BOY. Released, oh miracle! BOY. Whence came you here? TELL. From yonder vessel! FISHERMAN. What? BOY. Where is the viceroy? TELL. Drifting on the waves. FISHERMAN. Is't possible? But you! How are you here? How 'scaped you from your fetters and the storm? TELL. By God's most gracious providence. Attend. FISHERMAN and BOY. Say on, say on! TELL. You know what passed at Altdorf? FISHERMAN. I do—say on! TELL. How I was seized and bound, And ordered by the governor to Kuessnacht. FISHERMAN. And how with you at Flueelen he embarked. All this we know. Say, how have you escaped? TELL. I lay on deck, fast bound with cords, disarmed, In utter hopelessness. I did not think Again to see the gladsome light of day, Nor the dear faces of my wife and children; And eyed disconsolate the waste of waters—— FISHERMAN. Oh, wretched man! TELL. Then we put forth; the viceroy, Rudolph der Harras, and their suite. My bow And quiver lay astern beside the helm; And just as we had reached the corner, near The Little Axen 24, heaven ordained it so, That from the Gotthardt's gorge, a hurricane Swept down upon us with such headlong force, That every rower's heart within him sank, And all on board looked for a watery grave. Then heard I one of the attendant train, Turning to Gessler, in this strain accost him: "You see our danger, and your own, my lord And that we hover on the verge of death. The boatmen there are powerless from fear, Nor are they confident what course to take; Now, here is Tell, a stout and fearless man, And knows to steer with more than common skill. How if we should avail ourselves of him In this emergency?" The viceroy then Addressed me thus: "If thou wilt undertake To bring us through this tempest safely, Tell, I might consent to free thee from thy bonds." I answered, "Yes, my lord, with God's assistance, I'll see what can be done, and help us heaven!" |