Not one of all these things did the king do, And had we not ourselves achieved our rights By our own stalwart hands, the wrongs we bore Had never touch"d him. Grat.i.tude to him!
Within these vales he sowed no seeds of that; He stood upon an eminence--he might Have been a very father to his people, But all his aim and pleasure was to raise Himself and his own house: and now may those Whom he has aggrandized, lament for him;
FuRST.
We will not triumph in his fall, nor now Recall to mind the wrongs that we endured.
Far be"t from us! Yet, that we should avenge The sovereign"s death, who never did us good, And hunt down those who ne"er molested us, Becomes us not, nor is our duty. Love Must be a tribute free, and unconstrain"d; From all enforced duties death absolves, And unto him we owe no further debt.
MELCH.
And if the queen laments within her bower, Accusing Heaven in sorrow"s wild despair; Here see a people, from its anguish freed, To that same Heav"n send up its thankful praise.
Who would reap tears must sow the seeds of love.
[_Exit the Imperial Courier_.]
STAUFFACHER (_to the people_).
But where is Tell? Shall he, our freedom"s founder, Alone be absent from our festival?
He did the most--endured the worst of all.
Come--to his dwelling let us all repair, And bid the Savior of our country hail!
[_Exeunt omnes_.]
SCENE II
_Interior of_ TELL"s _cottage. A fire burning on the hearth. The open door shows the scene outside._
HEDWIG, WALTER, _and_ WILLIAM
HEDWIG.
My own dear boys! your father comes today; He lives, is free, and we, and all are free; The country owes its liberty to him!
WALTER.
And I, too, mother, bore my part in it!
I must be named with him. My father"s shaft Ran my life close, but yet I never flinch"d.
HEDWIG (_embracing him_).
Yes, yes, thou art restored to me again!
Twice have I seen thee given to my sad eyes, Twice suffered all a mother"s pangs for thee!
But this is past--I have you both, boys, both!
And your dear father will be back today.
[_A monk appears at the door_.]
WILLIAM.
See, mother, yonder stands a holy friar; He comes for alms, no doubt.
HEDWIG.
Go lead him in, That we may give him cheer, and make him feel That he has come into the house of joy.
[_Exit and returns immediately with a cup_.]
WILLIAM (_to the monk_).
Come in, good man. Mother will give you food!
WALTER.
Come in and rest, then go refresh"d away!
MONK (_glancing round in terror, with unquiet looks_).
Where am I? In what country? Tell me.
WALTER.
How!
Are you bewildered, that you know not where?
You are at Burglen, in the land of Uri, Just at the entrance of the Shechenthal.
MONK. (_to_ HEDWIG).
Are you alone? Your husband, is he here?
HEDWIG.
I am expecting him. But what ails you, man?
There"s something in your looks, that omens ill!
Whoe"er you be, you are in want--take that.
[_Offers him the cup_.]
MONK.
Howe"er my sinking heart may yearn for food, Nought will I taste till you have promised first--
HEDWIG.
Touch not my garments, come not near me, monk!
You must stand farther back, if I"m to hear you.
MONK.
Oh, by this hearth"s bright hospitable blaze, By your dear children"s heads, which I embrace--