"Not so fast," said the crafty governor, while he eyed the bow with which Tell had so bravely performed the cruel operation. "Tell me, my shrewd archer, who does not hesitate to aim at his own flesh and blood, why did you draw two arrows from your quiver instead of one?"
Tell drew himself to his full height and, captive as he was, the Governor quailed beneath his glance.
"The second arrow was for _you_ in case I had struck my son!" said Tell fiercely. "If so much as a drop of his blood had been drawn, my second bolt would have been lodged in your false heart."
"Bind him!" shouted Gessler, overjoyed that Tell had delivered himself into his hands. "In my own castle it shall be decided what sort of death and torture he shall suffer." And with Tell led between two hors.e.m.e.n the Governor"s retinue went to the sh.o.r.e of the lake to cross to the castle where he made his home.
When the boat was well out in the lake, however, the same terrible wind that so often blew upon its waters arose with the swiftness of a thunderclap and threatened to overwhelm them all. Tell lay bound in the boat, calmly watching what he could see of the storm, when one of the Governor"s servants told him that Tell himself was the most skilful boatman in that part of the country and the only one who could save them from the waves that threatened each minute to swamp them.
At this Tell"s bonds were cut and he was ordered by the Governor to take his place at the helm and guide the boat to sh.o.r.e, and Gessler added that if he brought it safely in it would serve to lessen the punishment that he planned to inflict upon him.
Tell did as he was ordered and took the tiller. And by his skilful guidance the craft gradually drew near to sh.o.r.e.
But Tell had planned shrewdly as he guided the boat and he gradually drew it toward a ledge of rock that was greatly feared by all the boatmen of the lake. When the boat was directly beneath the rock Tell waited until a wave flung the boat on high and seizing his crossbow and arrows he sprang from the gunwale, landed on the rock and disappeared into the forest.
Gessler was enraged at Tell"s escape, but he and his party had all they could do to save their lives from the fury of the lake. At last, more by luck than skill, they drew the craft into smoother waters and he and his retinue were saved.
Tell, however, had formed a stern purpose while fleeing through the forest. He knew that his own life and that of his son and perhaps of his entire family would be lost if Gessler lived, for the Governor would certainly send soldiers to take and slay him. So Tell resolved to slay the governor with the same crossbow with which he had shot the apple from his son"s head.
He waited in the woods on the edge of a ravine through which Gessler must pa.s.s on the way to his castle at Kussnacht, for no other way led there; and when the Governor"s escort finally appeared, Tell aimed his bow, the arrow hissed from the string and imbedded itself squarely in Gessler"s heart. The deed was accomplished surely and with skill, and the Swiss would suffer no more from the heavy hand of the tyrant Gessler.
This act rang through Switzerland, and everywhere people were soon in revolt against the power of Austria. And the ultimate result of the action of William Tell was in the end the freedom of the Swiss people from the oppression of Austria. And throughout Switzerland the name of William Tell is revered to this day and there are statues in his honor, while many a legend has been born in his name and many a great writer has celebrated his deeds.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
DON QUIXOTE
In the year 1605 a Spanish author named Cervantes wrote the story of a lean and elderly gentleman named Don Quixote who had the strangest attack of madness in the world. For this Don Quixote, who lived in La Mancha in Spain, lost his mind through reading books of chivalry, and he so stuffed his poor weak brain with preposterous tales of knights and giants that at last he thought he must take horse and armor and ride through Spain righting wrongs and doing battle with all that opposed him.
Now this fancy of Don Quixote"s was just as ridiculous as it would be to-day to go in search of Indians upon the streets of New York or other American cities,--for at the time when he lived there were no knights, nor had there been any for a great many years. The people were honest peasants and burghers who made their living much in the fashion that we do to-day, and had forgotten all about the idle tales of dragons and of knights that rode armed through the forests. But none the less Don Quixote had so addled his mind with stories of bygone times that he must needs become a knight without any delay.
In the attic of his house he found an old suit of rusty armor that had belonged to his grandfather, and he scoured this until it shone like silver. He found a helmet too, and as only part of it remained he repaired it with strips of pasteboard. Then he took an old and worn out horse whose ribs stuck out from his hide and who was more used to hauling vegetables than to warlike adventures, and he called the horse by the high sounding name of "Rocinante," and really believed that the senile old animal was a greater charger than Bucephalus, the famous horse that bore the conqueror, Alexander.
With his armor, a sword, a lance and a horse, all that remained for Don Quixote was to have a fair lady to do bold deeds for, whose colors he could wear on his lance when going into battle. A peasant girl lived near his house whose name was Aldonca Lorenso, a fat girl of squat figure and broad shoulders who smelled of onions, strong enough to carry a sack of potatoes on her head. And Don Quixote decided that she must be his lady fair, and he called her by the high sounding name of Dulcinea del Toboso, ready to uphold the marvelous beauty that he alone believed that she possessed, by doing battle with any man in Spain who should deny it.
Early one morning in the hottest part of the summer Don Quixote arose, put on his armor, took his shield and lance and saddled Rocinante.
Then, climbing into the saddle as nimbly as his old and rheumatic joints would allow, he rode forth in quest of adventures. After riding all day, he approached an inn that his disordered brain transformed before his eyes into a castle of goodly size, and riding up to the inn door he spoke to two peasant girls who were sitting there, calling them great ladies and saying that he would do all that they should ask of him and protect them with his weapons.
The girls could not understand his talk, and viewing his strange appearance had all that they could do to withhold their laughter, but seeing that he looked tired and worn they asked if he would like something to eat, and on his a.s.senting they took him into the inn and spread supper before him. Don Quixote took off his armor, but he could not get off his helmet which he had tied firmly on his neck with green ribbons, and sooner than cut these he left his helmet on, so that it was necessary for one of the girls to feed him with a spoon, and to give him wine by pouring it into his mouth through a hollow cane that the innkeeper prepared for this strange purpose.
After supper Don Quixote decided that he must mount guard over his suit of armor, spending the small hours in prayer and vigilance, in order to become a knight, and putting it by the well in the courtyard of the inn, he stood beside it, leaning on his sword. This caused great inconvenience to all the guests and servants at the inn, for so fiercely did he guard it that he allowed n.o.body to draw water from the well and knocked down a peasant who approached with pails, threatening to slay him. Whereupon the peasant"s comrades, standing at a safe distance, pelted Don Quixote with stones.
[Ill.u.s.tration: DON QUIXOTE SUFFERED n.o.bODY TO DRAW WATER FROM THE WELL]
All this did not please the innkeeper, and he thought of some way to quiet the madman. At last he came up to Don Quixote and told him that he would now make him a knight--a ceremony that the poor crazy gentleman believed he must go through before he had any right to wander about the country righting the wrongs of the people. And as Don Quixote took the innkeeper for a great n.o.bleman, he only felt pleased and flattered at the offer and prepared to accept it without delay.
Then the innkeeper took Don Quixote into the barn, a small boy brought a candle and the two girls who had fed Don Quixote came in giggling to see the ceremony. And the innkeeper pretended to read something from his day book, in which he kept accounts of hay and grain; and bidding Don Quixote to kneel struck him a resounding smack with the flat of the sword between the shoulder blades. Then one of the girls, still giggling, tied the sword about Don Quixote"s middle, and said to him: "Good sir, may you be a fortunate knight and meet success in all your adventures." And in this way the ceremony of knighting the poor man was concluded.
Nearly bursting with joy Don Quixote rode away from the inn--where he had neglected to pay for his board and lodging. And on his way an actual adventure did befall him for he came upon a st.u.r.dy peasant beating a boy who was tied to a tree.
With a loud voice Don Quixote bade him desist at once and on seeing the strange armed figure with sword and lance that threatened him, the man stood gaping with amazement. He explained that he was beating his boy for laziness, but the boy complained that his master had not paid him the wages due him.
"Pay them at once," thundered Don Quixote. "Woe betide the man who does not give heed to my orders." Without further parley he rode off, whereupon the man tied the boy again to the tree and gave him so severe a beating that he left him for dead. And in this way Don Quixote righted the first wrong that he encountered.
Having no money or clean clothes he returned home to get these things, and when he sallied forth a second time he took with him a simple country fellow named Sancho Panza, who was so very stupid that he did not understand his master"s madness at all but really believed a number of the wild tales that Don Quixote told him, notably one about an island of which Don Quixote planned to make him governor. And with Sancho following at his heels on a donkey Don Quixote commenced riding up and down the countryside looking for adventures.
In the course of their travels many adventures befell them, for the disordered brain of the old knight errant transformed the happenings of every day life into the scenes that he had read of in his wild romances of chivalry. One day, as he and Sancho Panza were riding along the road, talking of the island that Sancho was to govern when Don Quixote should have won it by the power of his sword, they came upon thirty or forty old-fashioned windmills that were flourishing their sail-clad wooden arms with every breeze that blew.
"By my faith!" exclaimed Don Quixote, "here are a group of giants that I mean to destroy, and with the money we gain from them we will start on our great fortunes, for I certainly shall kill them all and give you some of the gold in payment for your services."
"Where are the giants?" asked the puzzled Sancho Panza in amazement.
"There, straight ahead of us, brandishing their arms in anger," shouted Don Quixote. "Let us attack them instantly."
"But, Master," cried Sancho Panza, "those are not giants but windmills that turn their arms with the breeze. Have a care how you approach them or they will unhorse you."
"They are giants," insisted Don Quixote. "If you are afraid, go home and I will battle with them alone."
And driving home his spurs into the bony flanks of Rocinante he charged the windmills so furiously that his lance was shivered in the arms of the first of them and he and his horse after being hurled in the air were thrown stunned and bruised upon the ground.
Sancho Panza hurried to help the poor mad knight who could not move, so great had been the force with which he had fallen, and coming to himself Don Quixote sat up and seeing the windmills declared that an enchanter had put a spell on the giants and changed them into that form,--but nevertheless, he continued, the enchanter"s wiles would prove to be weak against his own stout will and strong right arm and he would triumph over his enemies.
Soon after that they came upon a company consisting of two friars of the order of St. Benedict and a coach and retinue that was taking a lady to the City of Seville, and seeing them Don Quixote declared that the friars were enchanters who were carrying the lady off against her will. Setting his lance in rest he galloped against them with such force that if the one that met his charge had not thrown himself to the ground he would certainly have been killed, while the other, seeing how his companion had fared, took to his heels as fast as possible.
Sancho Panza, when he saw the friar lying on the road, ran up to him and soon would have stripped him of his clothes but some of the servants hastened up and demanded what he was doing.
"These clothes belong to me by right of conquest," said Sancho. "My master has overthrown in fair combat him that owned them."
The servants, knowing nothing of the laws of chivalry, fell on Sancho with their cudgels, belabored him l.u.s.tily and plucked his beard out in handfuls, leaving the unfortunate fellow lying on the ground in far worse plight than the friar.
In the meantime Don Quixote was talking to the lady in the coach to whom he swore eternal devotion. He told her that since he had rescued her from the enchanters she must return to the town of Toboso and tell the lady Dulcinea what he had done and the glorious feat of arms he had performed in Dulcinea"s name. But at this a Biscayan Squire rode up and told Don Quixote to leave at once or he would soon be unable to perform any more glorious feats because he would promptly be slain.
And a combat began between Don Quixote and the Biscayan that nearly ended in the death of the latter, for in spite of the carriage cushion that the squire used as a shield, Don Quixote struck him such a tremendous blow that he fell from his horse and lay as dead on the ground. But the crazy knight had not come unharmed from the fight, for part of his ear was cut away by the sword of the Biscayan. And telling the astonished lady to take the Biscayan with her to Toboso, Don Quixote remounted and rode away with Sancho Panza.
For the cure of his ear Don Quixote had in mind a wonderful balsam made of wine, oil, rosemary and salt, and he talked much with Sancho about the marvelous properties of this nauseous compound. On the way to an inn, however, he had another fight, this time with some carriers he pa.s.sed in the course of his journey, and both he and Sancho were well beaten again.
As the poor knight could not move after his last battle Sancho threw him across the back of Rocinante and led the horse until they came to an inn, where the innkeeper"s wife, being kind hearted, dressed Don Quixote"s wounds and put him to bed. And here Don Quixote tried his wonderful balsam and Sancho also, and both of them were made ill by the horrible dose that rudely greeted their stomachs.
When they came to leave the inn they had no money to pay the reckoning.
Don Quixote mounted Rocinante and rode away, but Sancho was held by the innkeeper for payment. And calling a number of rude fellows the innkeeper took his revenge upon the crazy knight by the mistreatment of Sancho Panza who was tossed in a blanket until the company could toss him no more for weariness and the laughter that his absurd plight awoke in them.
After this Don Quixote had many ridiculous adventures. Among them was an attack he made upon an inoffensive barber who happened to be carrying a bra.s.s basin for his trade that Don Quixote believed to be an enchanted helmet. After capturing the basin Don Quixote proceeded to wear it in place of his steel casque. He called it Mambrino"s Helmet, and his appearance in ancient armor with a basin on his head made him appear madder than ever.
One day he chanced to meet a group of Spanish convicts who had been convicted for their crimes and were being taken to the galleys as a punishment. After questioning them and learning that they were being led away against their will Don Quixote fell on the guards who were escorting them and attacked them so fiercely that he put them to flight and set free the convicts. These, however, returned his kindness by a shower of stones. They then fell upon him and stripped him of much of his clothing, leaving, however, the armor which was of no use to them, and so they left him.