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THE ARCHERS, OR MOUNTAINEERS OF SWITZERLAND; TO WHICH IS SUBJOINED A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SWITZERLAND.

[COPY RIGHT SECURED.]

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THE ARCHERS, OR MOUNTAINEERS OF SWITZERLAND; AN OPERA, IN THREE ACTS, AS PERFORMED BY THE OLD AMERICAN COMPANY, IN NEW-YORK; TO WHICH IS SUBJOINED A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SWITZERLAND, FROM THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, TO THE FINAL ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HELVETIC CONFEDERACY, BY THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH.

NEW-YORK: Printed by T. & J. SWORDS, No. 99 Pearl-Street. —1796.—

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PREFACE.

IN the summer of the year 1794, a dramatic performance, published in London, was left with me, called HELVETIC LIBERTY. I was requested to adapt it to our stage. After several perusals, I gave it up, as incorrigible; but, pleas­ed with the subject, I recurred to the history of Switzerland, and composed the Piece now pre­sented to the public.

Any person, who has the curiosity to compare the two pieces, will observe that I have adopted three of the imaginary characters, from HEL­VETIC LIBERTY,—the Burgomaster, Lieutenant, and Rhodolpha: I believe they are, however, strictly my own. The other similarities are the necessary consequences of being both founded on the same historic fact.

Should the reader meet with thoughts, ex­pressions, or even a line, which is not new, I hope he will acquit me of any intention to impose on him; and consider it rather as the [Page vi] effect of a treacherous memory. For instance, that line of Portia's—

"So many widows weep their husbands slain"—

since the printing of the first sheet, I under­stand to be the property of Lady Randolph, with only the trifling alteration of "How" into "So."

The principal liberty taken with history, is, that I have concentrated some of the actions of these heroic mountaineers; making time submit to the laws of the Drama. But the reader will not have that sublime pleasure invaded, which is ever felt in the contemplation of virtuous cha­racters: Tell, Furst, Melchthal, Staffach, and Winkelreid, are not the children of poetic fic­tion.

In the historical account of Switzerland, sub­joined, actions are referred to their proper dates; and the best information given, of this early period of Helvetic history, that I could collect.

W. DUNLAP.
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PROLOGUE.

WE tell a tale of Liberty to-night;
How patriots freely bleed, and freemen fight;
How men, though few, united in one cause,
May, 'spite of millions, for themselves form laws;
And though an union'd world their rights oppose,
May still support the government they chose.
But why that start when Liberty is nam'd?
I fear, bright goddess, she hath been defam'd;
A fiend accurst hath oft assum'd her form,
In whirlwinds nurst, and bred amid the storm;
Of face detestable, of words obscene,
Hell in her eye, and fury in her mien;
Yet vers'd in vile Hypocrisy's dark way,
She, harlot like, allures the steps astray,
While from her lewd embraces, fruitful, spring,
The factious partizan, the lawless king,
Vile anarchy, misrule, and blood, and death,
The smoking hamlet, and the barren heath;—
By these, her offspring, shall the fiend be known,
For tyranny and ruin are her own:
And ne'er from Liberty such evils came,
For Liberty and Justice are the same.
Can Liberty with base injustice dwell?
As well seek virtue in the depths of hell—
Where equal rights are found—no marking grade,
From property, or colour's varying shade,
There seek the nymph—No Spartan dame is she,
Enslaving ten, that one may live more free.
Firm is her step, yet modest is her mien,
And conscious Virtue in her face is seen;
[Page viii]Valour, and manly Science in her train,
Upholding Peace, who blesses all the plain:
Her locks luxuriant, circling tendrils bind;
Her virgin manners, show a virgin mind;
The lover's warmth she softens to the friend's,
And rugged wildness to obedience bends.
Reserv'd, yet open, though severe, yet mild;
Wise as the man, yet guileless as the child.
Such is the Liberty to-night we show,
Best friend to right, to every wrong a foe.

CHARACTERS.

William Tell, Burgher of Altdorf, Canton of Uri,
Mr. Hodgkinson.
Walter Furst, of Uri,
Mr. Johnson.
Werner Staffach, of Schweitz,
Mr. Hallam, jun.
Arnold Melchthal, of Underwalden,
Mr. Tyler.
Gesler, Austrian Governor of Uri,
Mr. Cleveland.
Lieutenant to Gesler,
Mr. Jefferson.
Burgomaster of Altdorf,
Mr. Prigmore.
Conrad, a seller of wooden ware, in Altdorf,
Mr. Hallam.
Leopold, Duke of Austria,
Mr. King.
Bowmen,
Messrs. Lee, Durang, &c.
Pikemen,
Messrs. Munto, Tomkins, &c.
Burghers,
Messrs. Des Moulins, Woolls, &c.
Portia, Tell's wife,
Mrs. Melmoth.
Rhodolpha, Walter Furst's daughter,
Miss Broadhurst.
Cecily, a basket woman,
Mrs. Hodgkinson.
Boy, Tell's son,
Miss Harding.
Maidens of Uri,
Madame Gardie, Madame Val, Miss Brett, &c.

Scene lies in the City of Altdorf and its Environs. Time, part of two Days.

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THE ARCHERS; OR, MOUNTAINEERS OF SWITZERLAND.

ACT FIRST.

SCENE FIRST.

A Street in Altdorf. Enter CECILY crying Baskets for Sale.
CECILY.

I BELIEVE I'm out rather too early with my ware; there is scarce any body stirring; however, I'll sing on, and en­deavour charitably to break people's rest, and put them in mind of their wants.

SONG.

Come who'll buy my baskets?
I've small and I've great,
They are fit for all uses,
And suiting each state.
Come who'll buy my baskets?
Buck-baskets, bread-baskets,
Of broom and of chip;
Work-baskets for ladies
Who ne'er have the hyp.
Come who'll buy my baskets?
[Page 10]
Here's love-letter baskets
Of willow so trim,
For the swain who sore sighs
At his mistress's whim.
Come who'll buy my baskets?
Enter CONRAD with a Jack-ass loaded with Wooden Bowls, Dishes, Ladles, &c. enters crying "Bowls and Ladles, Bowls and Ladles."

SONG.

CONRAD.
Here are bowls by the dozen, and spoons by the gross,
And a ladle or two in the bargain I'll toss.
Come buy.
Here are ladles for soup, and ladles for pap,
To feed little Cob as he lies in your lap.
By, by, by, by.
Come buy—ladles and bowls, ladles and bowls—Come buy.
CONRAD.

Yaw—yaw—A murrain on the fleas for driving me from my cock-loft so early—It's in vain to spend my breath and waste good music; for there is nothing to be mov'd by it but brick-walls and pavers; and they don't seem to be in a dancing mood. O ho! here's Cecily abroad with her baskets—if it wasn't an ungentlemanly suspicion one might think the fleas had found their way to her bolster.

"Ladles and bowls, ladles and bowls—Come buy."
Good morrow Cecily. Gently, Dapple, gently.
CECILY.

Well Conrad, what's the news with you?

CONRAD.

News? why, the mountaineers are cutting down all the trees to make cross-bows and arrows, and I shall find none to make bowls. There's likely to be a war.

CECILY.

I'm glad on't.

CONRAD.
[Page 11]

You're glad on't? Well, that shows a christian-like disposi­tion in you. Pray now your reason? I should like to know the depth of a basket-woman's politics.

CECILY.

I'll tell you—they will press all you jack-ass fellows for sol­diers, and then we shall have better business.

CONRAD.

Sound reason and good logical conclusions, by the mass! I shall ever hold thy wit in higher estimation for thy politics: for trust me, Cecily, from the governor to the basket-girl we all build on the same broad bottom, interest, girl: but the mis­chief of it is, this war is too near home. One can hear with such a glorious cool courage of some ten or fifteen thousand tall fellows chop'd into crows' meat, at a convenient distance; but when one don't know but his own carcase may be served up for one of the dishes, it is apt to damp the appetite.

CECILY.

You learn'd such a flourishing way of talking, while you liv'd with the lawyer, that one can hardly tell what you mean.

CONRAD.

Why, then, the bowmen, they say, are all preparing long-bow, cross-bow, and quivers; the old soldiers, who formerly served at Zuric, are scouring up their batter'd helmets and cuirasses, new grinding their swords, and sharpening their pikes, to oppose our governor here, Gesler; who, on his part, is raising recruits to join his Austrians, to keep our peasantry under: so, between one party or the other, a man must fight whether his stomach inclines to it or not.

CECILY.

And which side are you?

CONRAD.

What a question to a patriot—whether he will fight for or against his country!

CECILY.

Why, you know, Conrad, you told me that most people's interest had a broad bottom; and knowing, that as a seller of [Page 12] bowls, you have a pretty wide consicence, I did not know but the bottom of your interest might be as broad as the best of them.

CONRAD.

No, Cecily, since I must fight, I'll take leave of poor Dap­ple and go join the bowmen.

CECILY.

I shall like you the better for it as long as I live—if you're not killed.

CONRAD.

Why, you should like me still better for dying for my country.

CECILY.

Should I? Well, may be I should; but some how or another I shall never like a dead man as well as a live one.

CONRAD.

Well, I don't know but your taste is as well founded as your politics. Will you go with me Cecily?

CECILY.

For what?

CONRAD.

To carry my knapsack.

CECILY.

Why, Dapple might do that.

CONRAD.

Aye, but a soldier is never allow'd to carry any other beast of burthen with him but his wife. Of wives he generally takes care to have enough.

CECILY.

You are an impudent good-natured rogue, and I don't care if I do. But you don't think I'll go without you marry me?

CONRAD.

No, certainly not! You don't suppose I would think of leading the beast without the halter?

[Page 13]DUET.
CONRAD.
If a man would a faithful follower have,
O! there's nothing in truth like a wife;
She'll follow, good lack!
With a pack,
On her back,
And ne'er quit him till he quits his life.
CECILY.
When we're married we'll sing full many a stave,
As we trudge over hill or thro' wood;
As we to the fair
Shall repair,
With our ware,
Crying, baskets and bowls, sound and good.
BOTH.
In peace or in war,
In joy or in care,
As we trudge thro' the rough roads of Life,
All labours we'll share,
And each shall declare
Nought's so fit for a man as a wife.
Enter LIEUTENANT and GUARD, DRUMS, &c.—Some 'pressed Men bound—Citizens following—CONRAD at­tempts to steal off.
LIEUTENANT.

Where is that fellow sneaking?—Seize him!—Gentlemen, I am beating up for volunteers to serve our emperor Albert, and our noble governor Gesler. We wish none but those who freely enter into the service.—Hand-cuff that rascal till you get him safe to the castle.—We are above kidnapping men into the service.

CONRAD.

Yes, I think you are—this is wolf-napping I suppose. If ever I get clear, you'll not catch me napping again.

LIEUTENANT.
[Page 14]

We have the greatest tenderness for the rights of the sub­ject. If the rascal attempts to speak gag him.

CONRAD.

Ergo! the subject has no right to speak—mum.

LIEUTENANT.

What can be so honorable as the profession of arms? If a mere citizen looks sour at a gentleman soldier, damme, we run him through the body on the spot. These are privileges, gen­tlemen, to which we invite you—these are privileges the em­peror offers. Pray, gentlemen, are you burghers or merely inhabitants?

1st BURGHER.

Burghers.

LIEUTENANT.

You see, gentlemen, we only invite you to happiness.

CONRAD.

I never knew what happiness was before.

LIEUTENANT.

These arms alone would inspire courage into the breast of a poltroon: look at this helmet gentlemen.

1st BURGHER.

Slave!

Exeunt Burghers.
LIEUTENANT.

Slave! When our corps is complete, and a few more Austrians arrive, we shall see who are the slaves, and who the masters. Lead the gentlemen volunteers to the castle, and put them in training directly. Use them as becomes gentlemen who have freely chosen the honorable profession of blood-letting; and if any one of them is obstinate or sulky, let him run the gauntlet through the regiment, by way of commencing acquaintance.

CONRAD.

But what's to become of Dapple?

LIEUTENANT.

We'll take care of him.

CONRAD.

And my bowls?

LIEUTENANT.
[Page 15]

We'll take care of every thing belonging to you.

CONRAD.

O! you're too kind. Cecily, will you go with me?

CECILY.

Through the world, Conrad.

LIEUTENANT.

O! you belong to him too—I'll take care of you.

CECILY.

I can take care of myself, thank ye.

CONRAD.

Don't affront him, Cecily, or mayhap you'll have to run the gauntlet too, by way of commencing acquaintance with the regiment.

TRIO.
LIEUTENANT, CONRAD, and CECILY.
CONRAD.

These soldiers are devilish kind.

CECILY.

Such kindness does not suit for me.

LIEUTENANT.
Tho' hand-cuff'd, my lad, you'll soon find
It's only to make you more free.
Come, come pretty maid, frank and free,
You'll be pleas'd with a soldier's life;
My laundress and mistress you'll be,
And to Conrad still prove a good wife.
CECILY.
Is this then the way soldiers woo?
If so from my lad I'll ne'er part:
I'll follow him all the world through,
For he's honest and sound at the heart.
LIEUTENANT.

Strike up drums.

(Lieutenant marches off one way, and guard with prisoners another.)
[Page 16]

SCENE SECOND.

WILLIAM TELL is discovered adjusting his Arms—a Hel­met, Cuirass, Cross-bow and Pike lying around—his lit­tle Son trying to draw the Sword.
BOY.

It won't come out.

TELL.
Thou hast not strength to draw it;
But when thy arm is like thy father's, boy,
'Twill from its scabbard fly as soon as touch'd,
If sense of injury impel the hand.
When thou hast strength, how wilt thou use it, boy?
BOY.
I will defend my father and my mother;
And none shall harm our neighbours if I'm by.
These Austrian soldiers too, who look so proud—
TELL.

O! thou'rt thy father's, soul and body, lad!

(Catches him in his arms.)
Enter PORTIA.
PORTIA.

How my heart sinks to see these preparations!

TELL.
And mine, with virtuous ardour, bounds upright;
Swelling, impatient, to remove the cause.
PORTIA.
But then the many who must sink in death,
Whene'er the dread appeal is made to arms!
So many widows weep their husbands slain!
So many matrons shrieking as they lie,
Their unbound tresses mingled with the dust!
TELL.
[Page 17]
No doubt, no doubt, war is the curse of man;
Himself contriv'd, himself inflicts, the woe.
Is it not strange that men, for thirst of power,
Of gold, dominion, or an empty name,
Can coolly plan the massacre of millions,
That other millions may be wrought their slaves?
'Tis thus that Albert, with infuriate grasp,
Would wrest from us whate'er is dear in life,
To gratify his idol, curst Ambition.
Already are our charters violated;
Already Gesler, in despite of laws,
However sacred, grinds our peasantry;
And adds to injury, unmanly insult.
O Switzerland, my country, we must rouze!
PORTIA.
But yet, my William, since we feel them not,
Why should we risk our all to right oppressions?
Proud Gesler has not dar'd to violate
The charter'd rights of Altdorf's citizens.
TELL.
Hold, Portia, hold! while yet I love thee hold!
What! shall I sit content, my neighbour wrong'd?
Because my property untouch'd remains,
Shall I, by not opposing, aid the robber?
Such are the maxims of those half-soul'd fools
Who sit unmov'd and see oppression round them,
Nor heed their neighbours' groan,—the poor man's cry.
They say—"We are secure,"—and yet—and yet;—
But that security becomes their bane;
And when the chains are riveted, they find
That they are but pre-eminent in sorrow.
Gesler as yet respects our burghers' rights;
Their rights of property; but our bold yeomen
Are beyond sufferance burthen'd. We come next.
Nay, tho' secure myself, I would not see
Our brave and hardy mountaineers oppress'd.
[Page 18] They now are rouzing; mine shall be the task
To stir the lazy citizens of Altdorf,
And hurl proud Gesler from his seat usurp'd.
The Schweitzers, and the men of Underwalden,
Join the cause of Uri—O! by yon heaven
'Twill be a glorious struggle, and must prosper!
PORTIA.
Think not thy Portia lacks the sense or spirit,
To see, to feel, thy strong emotions just.
My better reason doth applaud them all:
But when the woman steals upon my soul,
I nothing see but danger to thy life.
Then in my dreams I view thy mangled corse—
Or start affrighted at the shouts of war,
And see thee flying, all oppress'd with numbers.
TELL.
By heav'n I scarce can pardon such a dream
The waking thought I would not.
(Pleasantly.)
PORTIA.
Then our child—
TELL.
Ah! think of him;—think of the son of Tell,
The vassal of some lord—perhaps his page—
Dream that thou see'st him with his master's son,
Some little pamper'd lordling—think that thou see'st
Young Sir Nobility, in pettish mood,
Strike little Tell, or spurn him with his foot.
Oh, God of mercy! in the earth's cold center
First cover Switzerland from shame like this!
PORTIA.

First may I weep upon his grassy tomb.

TELL,

Ha! dost thou feel it then?

PORTIA.
I do, I do—
Go forth, my Tell—the God of battles shield thee!
And, shouldst thou fall, each hour I'll tell the boy
[Page 19]How, and for what, his father gave his life.
I will a rustic altar form of swerd,
And every morn there place his little hands,
And make him swear eternal enmity
To all who tyrannize o'er human-kind.
TELL.
There spoke the wife of Tell. O imitate,
In times like these, the dames of Greece and Rome;
We will outstrip their men in manly daring.
Go with thy mother, boy, and if she weeps,
Ask her to tell thee tales of bad men's falls,
Of good men's triumphs, or their glorious deaths:—
For all must die, my boy, or good or bad.
The difference is, the bad expire in curses;
While he who for his country bravely dies,
Is chaunted daily in his country's songs;
With blessings lives in every good man's heart;
And still remember'd, still excites to virtue!
Exeunt Portia and boy.

SONG.

TELL.
Forever lives the patriot's fame,
Forever useful is his name,
Inspiring virtuous deeds:
How glorious 'tis in spite of time,
In spite of death, to live sublime;
While age to age succeeds.
Exit.

SCENE THIRD.

BOWMEN are discovered preparing their Arms by the Side of a Piece of Water; on the other Side of which is seen the sublime Hills, hanging Rocks, and various appro­priate Beauties of the Lake of Uri.
CHORUS OF BOWMEN.
Genius of our pine-clad hills,
Give, of gifts, the first and best,
The animating thought which fills,
Swelling high the hero's breast.
SINGLE BOWMAN.
[Page 20]
Remembrance of our former bliss,
Contrasted with our present woe,
Shall fire the blood of every Swiss,
And rouse to vengeance on the foe.
Without restraint we roam'd our hills,
We prun'd our vines, and knew no care,
Oppression, with its train of ills,
Were strangers to a Switzer's ear.
From youth inur'd to bend the bow,
To climb the rock's terrific steep,
To tend our goats upon the brow,
Whence roars the cataract to the deep,
Hardy and strong, our limbs ne'er fail
The dauntless mind that dwells within;
Alert to oppose, when foes assail;
Fearless of War's tremendous din.
Sublime the scenes which meet the view;
Sublime the thoughts which they inspire;
Undaunted valour, friendship true,
And Freedom's all-expanding fire.
CHORUS OF BOWMEN.
Genius of our pine-clad hills,
Give, of gifts, the first and best,
The animating thought which fills,
Swelling high the hero's breast.
1st BOWMAN.
Behold here comes the father of our land,
The virtuous Walter; Uri's proudest boast.
What youthful bowman leads he by the hand?
2d BOWMAN.
'Tis Underwalden's chief, brave Arnold Melchthal:
I know him well; first of his countrymen.
[Page 21] Enter WALTER and ARNOLD.
WALTER.
Fellows in labour as in arms, I bring,
To aid our counsels, and to nerve our strength,
This gallant warrior: know him for my friend.
The pride of Underwalden leads he on;
The same their cause, the same their sense of wrong.
Thus leagu'd, we may defy the Austrian tyrant,—
Insatiate Albert—and his host of slaves;
Who now, with wide and sweeping desolation,
Threaten our rugged hills.
ARNOLD.
Why, let him come!
He shall be met by men. What say ye, countrymen!
Is it not better some brave Swiss should die,
Yielding their lives in pious opposition,
Than that we all be slaves?
1st BOWMAN.

Better all die!

WALTER.
There is no need of it: we'll live to triumph!
Our very soil doth fight 'gainst tyranny;
And will assist our efforts to be free.
When up our mountains' craggy sides they climb,
We'll rend th' o'er-hanging rocks and hurl them down;
Whelming our foes in one prodigious ruin.
Nor will we fear to face them in the field,
Tho' few our numbers. O, who knows the force,
Who knows the firmness of the virtuous man,
Who fights to save his country from oppression?
ARNOLD.
Gesler, proud Albert's well-chosen delegate,
Doth grow each day in tyranny more bold.
WALTER.
I like it well; 'twill even rouze the dull.
There's not a privilege but he doth wrest,
[Page 22]Or warp it from its purpose to annoy us:
And, not content, adds insult to injustice.
I'm told that he hath rais'd a pole in Altdorf;
Whereon, in mockery vile, his hat is fix'd;
And every citizen, that passes by,
Must bend the neck to it.
ARNOLD.
By heav'n! I hope
To see the wretch's head e'en there uplift;
That Haman like, fell Tyranny may die
On the foul gibbet meant for Liberty.
But how bears Tell these insults?
WALTER.
O! he chafes;
As doth the mountain boar, who whets his tusks,
Preparing for the combat. Even now
He would, with us, meet here; but policy
Restrains. He may more service do at home.
The citizens of Altdorf look to him
For counsel and direction. When the storm
Is rais'd, it doth require a hand like his
To guide it to its object. But behold—
See ye where you firs, with beach besprinkled,
Shade the western hill? even there, where jutting forth,
The barren promontory threats to crush
The pigmy-looking trees, o'er which it hangs;
There, in an opening 'twixt two pointed pines,
Observe the constant glittering of arms.
Some warriors pass this way—and as the sun
Peeps o'er the opposite hill top, he sees and shows
Their burnish'd 'coutrements. Bowmen prepare.
(The BOWMEN of Uri [...] themselves [...] side of the stage, opposite to the hill from which the warriors are descending.)
Be every man prepared to meet a foe.
(Horns sound at a distance.)
That is the horn of Schweitz; they are our friends▪
[Page 23]Behold, now issuing from the trees
They leave the hill and this way come amain.
See at their head brave Werner Staffach moves:
He comes to meet us here, the Chief of Schweitz.
Let us in chorus raise the song of Uri;
Greeting our warlike friends with melody.
BOWMEN OF URI.
Uri's sons, with open arms,
Still receive the friendly guest;
Shield him from impending harms:
Hospitality is blest.
Pluck the fruit from yonder vine,
For the stranger chuse the best;
Bring the bread, and milk the kine:
Hospitality is blest.
Enter WERNER STAFFACH of Schweitz, at the Head of Warriors, armed with Pikes, Swords and Shields; they march down the Stage, and range opposite the Bowmen of Uri.
PIKEMEN OF SCHWEITZ.
To the war-horn's loud and solemn blast,
Floating on th' affrighted air,
Obedient Schweitzers hither haste,
The fight with Uri's sons to share.
United have our fathers been;
Ever brave and ever free;
But we, their sons, with grief have seen
A tyrant strike at liberty.
ARNOLD MELCHTHAL.
When rouz'd by wrongs the freeman takes the field,
To crush oppressors and uphold the laws;
Tho' hosts oppose him, virtue is his shield,
And heaven assents in thunders of applause.
[Page 24]CHORUS OF THE WHOLE.
To the war-horn's loud and solemn blast,
Floating on th' affrighted air,
With souls on fire we eager haste,
The dangers of the fight to dare.
WALTER.
Welcome brave warriors! Werner Staffach, welcome!
Walter of Uri greets the men of Schweitz.
Aught have ye heard of Albert and his host?
WERNER.
Brave Walter Furst, I bring thee tidings good
Of Albert's van-guard. 'Twas but yester-morn
We charg'd, dispers'd, and drove them from the field;
An almost bloodless victory.
WALTER.

The manner?

WERNER.
It was the men of Underwalden did it.
They broke the foe, and we did nought but slaughter.
In heavy mail the Austrian soldiers stood;
Our charge awaiting. We, in form of wedge,
Triangular, long strove to break their rank,
In vain. Rock-firm, their bristly pikes presenting,
Unmov'd they fac'd us. Then Arnold Winkelreid
Sprang forward, self-devoted, to the charge.
He grasp'd, with either hand, the Austrian pikes,
Breaking the foremost rank with desperate force;
His breast presenting to the pikes behind,
He fell, gor'd thro' with wounds. But, by his death,
He op'd the way to glorious victory!
Our pointed column, once within their ranks,
Terror possess'd, confusion blind misled, them:
Our task was nought but slaughter and pursuit.
WALTER.
So ever fall the foes of Switzerland.
So still, to death devoted for their country,
[Page 25]March our bold yeomen dauntless to the field.
Come forth my sword.
(Draws)
Draw thou, its fellow, Werner.
(Werner draws.)
Form we the cross.
(They cross their swords)
This is the sacred sign
By which we live, by which, undaunted, die;
And by this sign do I myself devote
To Underwalden, Uri, and to Schweitz.
Dost thou accept the sign?
WERNER.

And join in it!

ARNOLD.

And I, for Underwalden and myself.

(Arnold draws, and after Werner has lifted his sword from Walter's he lays his own across.)
WALTER.
Now long exist this blest Helvetic league!
In federal bonds united we are safe,
And may defy our foes and laugh at tyrants;
For other bonds Helvetia ne'er shall know.
Nations shall join the league; nations unborn
Shall venerate the place where now we stand,
And hail the village Gruti, (else unknown,)
The cradle of Helvetic liberty!
WERNER.

Who, like Diana, bursts from yonder grove?

WALTER.
My only child, remains of all my flock,
Her mother's image, darling of her sire.
Enter RHODOLPHA, equip'd as a Huntress. She kneels to WALTER.
RHODOLPHA.

A boon, a boon, Rhodolpha begs a boon!

WALTER.

Arise, my child.

RHODOLPHA.
[Page 26]

First, father, give assent.

WALTER.

In nought becoming did I e'er deny thee.

RHODOLPHA.

Aught unbecoming did I ever ask?

WALTER.
O no! O no! therefore I grant the boon.
Arise, and tell thy father what thy wish.
RHODOLPHA.
Thank thee, my father! This is my request:—
Now, while around War's preparations glare,
And every yeoman grasps his bow or pike,
Rhodolpha droops to think that sex alone,
Should rob her of her share of dangerous glory.
The boon I've beg'd, and thou hast granted, Sir,
Frees me from tyrant Custom's vile restraint;
And gives those rights which I will die ere yield.
Now, in the field, and by my father's side,
I'll charge the foe, or from afar annoy him.
Thy shield protecting shall secure my bosom;
While every arrow, to an Austrian's heart,
Bears death.
WALTER.

Thou hast cheated me to this assent.

RHODOLPHA.
And is it unbecoming in thy daughter
To glow with ardour 'gainst her country's foes?
Shew me the goatherd who more sure of foot,
Bounds o'er the craggy rock or sky-capp'd hill:—
Or who more swift skims o'er the level plain.
What bowman bends a tougher yew, or aims
More sure the winged death, than I? I lead
Full fifty like myself; dauntless alike,
In Virtue's ways, alike detesting wrong.
And when my father sees the Austrian ranks
Mown down, or scatter'd, flying o'er the plain,
[Page 27]Our arrows still pursuing; then thy heart
Shall leap within thy breast; and thou shalt feel
Some consolation, tho' thou lack'st a son.
WALTER.
Bless thee, my child! I'll not revoke my boon.
And may heaven shield thee in the day of death.
RHODOLPHA.
Now pardon chiefs that I have play'd the braggart.
When peace again shall bless Helvetia's hills,
I will put off this boldness, and become
Meek with the meekest, with the blythest, blythe.
(They bow to her; Walter and Werner walk up the Stage to the Bowmen.)

SONG.

ARNOLD MELCHTHAL.
Why huntress, why, wilt thou thy life expose,
So valued by thy friends?
If thou should'st fall, the deaths of all our foes
Can never make amends.
O think what pangs thy father still must feel,
What pangs must Melchthal know,
When thou, exposed to the biting steel,
Shalt rush amidst the foe.
RHODOLPHA.
Brave Arnold Melchthal hear my fix'd resolve;
Nay, by a vow, unto my troop I'm bound,—
My troop of virgins,—not to hear of love,
'Till Switzerland is freed from Austria's yoke.
Where'er the battle rages will I hie;
There, if thou lov'st, by deeds assert thy claim.

SONG.

RHODOLPHA.
At the trumpet's clang, or the war-horn's sound,
As the tight-rein'd charger paws the ground,
[Page 28]Impatient to the field where armies low'r
Fly we the winged death to pour.
By freeing Switzerland your passion prove,
For liberty not mine, I'll ne'er know love.
ARNOLD AND RHODOLPHA.
By freeing Switzerland our worth we'll prove,
For liberty not ours, we'll ne'er know love.
(Rhodolpha retires to the upper end of the Stage, and waves with her hand, upon which her troop of Maidens enter, armed with bows and quivers, and range in front of the audience,—upper end.)
CHORUS OF THE WHOLE.
Let every act, let every thought,
Be center'd in our country's good:
Just laws are not too dearly bought,
Tho' purchas'd with our dearest blood.
Ne'er yet could foreign foes prevail
O'er men united to be free;
Myriads in arms in vain assail
The firm-soul'd friends of liberty.
Let every act, let every thought,
Be center'd in our country's good:
Just laws are not too dearly bought,
Tho' purchas'd with our dearest blood.
END OF ACT FIRST.
[Page 29]

ACT SECOND.

SCENE FIRST.

In front of the Castle of Altdorf a Pole is seen with a Hat on it. Enter LIEUTENANT with Guards, among whom is CONRAD, armed as a Cuirassier, his Armour much too large for him, and apparently very heavy. LIEU­TENANT leads him to a Spot near the Castle.
LIEUTENANT
(To Conrad.)

THIS, Sir, is your post; and pay attention to my orders; for if you deviate in the least, you shall be shot through with arrows, 'till you look like a porcupine. In the first place, you are not to stir beyond this line,

(marking with his sword)

without further orders. Secondly, every person who comes this way you are to challenge thus—"Who comes there?"

CONRAD.

Who comes there?

LIEUTENANT.

And then, looking in a soldier-like manner at the governor's hat, cry—"Bow."

CONRAD.

Bow.

DUET.
LIEUTENANT AND CONRAD.
LIEUTENANT.
How happy is a soldier's life,
So pleasant, so gay, and so free;
He's at ease in the midst of all strife,
And as happy—
CONRAD
(Sorrowfully.)

Aye, as happy as me.

LIEUTENANT.
[Page 30]
How jovially the glass goes round,
A bottle is due to each man;
To supply us the peasant is bound,
And we get it—
CONRAD.

As well as we can.

LIEUTENANT.
How happy do we soldiers live,
'Tis pleasure—
CONRAD.

Which nobody knows.

LIEUTENANT.
Our governor a payment doth give,
Which we always may take out—
CONRAD.

In blows.

Exeunt Lieutenant and guard.
CONRAD.

O dear! O dear! O dear! I'm afraid this pleasant life will be the death of me. This cuirass was made for Goliah of Gath's great grand-father. A dozen arrows might pass through and through me without ever touching my body. I think I must look like a great tin-cannister, with a stake run through the middle of it. I don't wonder your Austrian sol­diers stand firm, for 'twill take the strength of two men to put one in motion. Who comes there?

Enter GESLER and LIEUTENANT.
LIEUTENANT.

Hold your tongue, rascal.

CONRAD.

Bow.

LIEUTENANT.

Scoundrel.

CONRAD.
[Page 31]

Mum.

LIEUTENANT.

There is no enticeing or persuading the citizens to take up arms. I always thought I had a knack at wheedling; but I can pick up nothing but the very refuse of creation; fellows that the crows have had the choice of before me, and have turned up their noses at and left; and even those I am obliged to press.

GESLER.
We owe it all unto you saucy Tell:
He talks to them of rights; calls us oppressors;
And stirs the full-fed rogues to mutiny.
We must be cautious now; but soon I hope
To hunger-pinch the pamper'd slaves to reason.
My spies inform me, that the mountaineers,
Grown bold thro' lenity, meet even by day;
And threat, in swelling words, fierce opposition.
The men of Schweitz, and those of Underwalden,
Have join'd in league, the yeomanry of Uri.
LIEUTENANT.

But where lags the emperor, Sir? Methinks he is rather slow in his movements. If he don't come soon, these damn'd dogs will come down from their hills and dish us up for sauce to the carrion-carcasses of our soldiers.

CONRAD.

Like capers to mutton.

(Lieutenant looks at him)

Mum.

GESLER.
His armament is great and slowly moves;
But now is near at hand. When he arrives,
We'll see these goatherds skipping o'er their crags,
Skulking in caves, or on the glacier tops
At liberty to roam, with right to starve.—
But, might I counsel, we will hunt them down,
And extirpate, or bend them to the yoke.
By heav'n! on every hill, by every lake,
I'd plant the country round with groves of gibbets.
CONRAD.
[Page 32]

A very pleasant kind of plantation;—and new.

GESLER.
I hear that in the public hall this day
The burghers mean to meet. Be on the watch.
This we must call sedition. Seize thou Tell;
And if, with full success, Albert arrives,
Then hang him up. Meanwhile, 'twill over-awe
The citizens of Altdorf. Fare thee well.
Exit Gesler.
CONRAD.

The governor is a very pleasant, good-looking, kind sort of a gentleman. I should like to see him at his country house, walking about among those groves he talk'd of.

LIEUTENANT.

Peace, scoundrel! If you are heard to speak any other words, while on your post, but those I put into your mouth, you shall have a lash for every monosyllable.

Exit Lieutenant.
Enter RHODOLPHA.
CONRAD.

Who comes there?

RHODOLPHA.
Ha, ha, ha, ha! Why, what a thing art thou?
If I had found thee in a field of corn,
I could have sworn, the owner of the ground,
Some peasant soldier, had his batter'd arms
Hung on a pole, to fright the crows afar.
CONRAD.

Bow.

RHODOLPHA.
What, thou canst bark too, canst thou? See'st thou this?
(Aims at him.)
If through the center of thy kettle-coat
My arrow flies, perhaps 'twill pierce the pole
Whereon it hangs.
CONRAD.
[Page 33]

O don't shoot Mistress Rhodolpha! Why don't you know me? Don't you know poor Conrad the bowl-man.

RHODOLPHA.

What dost thou there?

CONRAD.

I'm set here to cry bow at every body that comes along.

RHODOLPHA.

A kind of watch-dog, ha! art not asham'd?

CONRAD.

No, not ashamed, Mistress; but as much mortified as you or any other good friend to the welfare of my spirit could wish my flesh to be. The governor's lieutenant has taken me by force, and made a volunteer of me. And, what's worst of all, they have taken poor Dapple, my ass, and enlisted him among the cavalry.

RHODOLPHA.
Thou tell'st a tale of laugh-provoking sorrow.
Quit these vile Austrian slaves and run away.
CONRAD.

So I would if I could get out.

RHODOLPHA.

Get out! Why art not out? What art thou in?

CONRAD.

Why, don't you see I'm i'th' inside of my coat? If you will send three or four of your father's bowmen to run away with me, I shall thank you all my life; but as to running away with myself, it is totally impossible. You need never expect any Austrian deserters.

RHODOLPHA.
Nor need we fear that they will climb our hills,
If they their armour bear as well as thou.
But hark thee, Conrad, leave thy shell behind,
Come to the hills, and I will give thee welcome.
CONRAD.

Thank you, I'll try.—But here comes the fat burg [...]master: —don't seem as if you knew me.

RHODOLPHA.
[Page 34]
No, I will not disgrace thee with thy friends;
Thou hast already learn'd the trick of state.
CONRAD.
Mum.

Who comes there?

Enter BURGOMASTER.
BURGOMASTER.

Friend.

CONRAD.

Bow.

(Burgomaster bows to the hat.)
BURGOMASTER.

Ha, ha, ha! In the name of hunger and thirst what art thou?

CONRAD.

Who comes there?

BURGOMASTER.

Why dost not answer, fellow? Knowest thou not my authority? Who art thou?

CONRAD.

Why, it's hard to say, Sir; for a man that's under orders not to speak; but if I might think, I should suppose that I was your worship's armour-bearer.

BURGOMASTER.

Ha, ha, ha! I should not have thought that humour would have made a dwelling place of thy carcase. Ha! my lass of the hills, art thou there? My pretty Rhodolpha—Why that look of scorn? Come, unbend thy brow.—How does my old friend Walter, thy father?

RHODOLPHA.

He claims no title to a traitor's friendship.

BURGOMASTER.

Ha, ha!—ye know me not—I, a traitor!—no, no, I am one of Switzerland's best friends.

RHODOLPHA.

A friend to nought, but to thyself, art thou.

BURGOMASTER.

And am not I a part of Switzerland?

CONRAD.
[Page 35]

Aye, and no small part neither.—You'll take care of one mountain at least.—When I have seen your worship walk of a warm day, I have thought you were very like Mount Blanc.

BURGOMASTER.

How so? thou perpendicular line, without breadth or soli­dity!

CONRAD.

First, your huge overhanging sides, threatening to crush any thing that came near your foot: then, the snow upon the sum­mit there; and as you walk'd it seem'd to melt, and several streams came meandering over your cheek till they were lost among the snow-hills on your worship's chin—then came ano­ther stream, rushing in a cataract off the promontory of your nose, and falling into the gulph below. I have sometimes thought that I could see the wild goats skipping about among the craggs—

BURGOMASTER.

Why, thou thing of nought—

CONRAD.

I beg your worship's pardon, I'll 'bate the goats.

BURGOMASTER.

If thou utterest any more words, save what thy duty re­quireth, I'll have thee box'd up for a skeleton;—thou wilt not need dissection. Now, my pretty lass of the hills, leave thy flouting looks, and tell thy father, from me, that he had better quit his practices against the emperor. The emperor is a good emperor, and pays his servants well; and there is much good eating and drinking in Switzerland, for men of Walter's note.

RHODOLPHA.

Eating!

BURGOMASTER.

Ay, trust me, damsel, there is much virtue in eating and drinking.

RHODOLPHA.
Thou blown-up thing! thou mockery of man!
Think'st thou the generous Walter Furst, like thee,
[Page 36]Would leave the gallant men, who look to him
For sage direction in th' approaching storms,
In hopes of Albert's smiles, or fear of frowns?
My father, with his countrymen, will share
Or good or evil. Thee, he doth despise.—
Of all things despicable, he is most,
Who, for the sake of interest base and vile,
Or personal safety, aids his country's foes.
BURGOMASTER.

Tut, tut,—this is all words, and words are wind, and wind is emptiness! A man must take care of his own interest, and his own person, or no one else will do it.—And let me tell ye, damsel, a man of my size has a great deal to take care of.

RHODOLPHA.
That thou hast wit, I do the more despise thee;
For thou dost sacrifice thy better sense
To sensuality and beastliness.
BURGOMASTER.

Think not, young woman, we will bear all this. Respect for the emperor, forbids that we, his officer, should put up with any indignity. Thou art in our power; therefore, as a mark of submission, bow thy knee to the governor's hat, the representative of Albert.

RHODOLPHA.
Why, truly, kings have much to boast, in this,
If sticks, and hats, and feathers, represent them.
Oft has my father said it was the case
That owls, and mules, and asses, bore the office.
CONRAD.

Perhaps, then, they'll promote Dapple to be an ambassador.

BURGOMASTER.

Thou shalt be punish'd, fellow, for thy tongue. Mean­time, damsel, obey, or we will force thee.

(Advances towards her.)
RHODOLPHA.
Keep thy due distance, as thou lov'st thyself.
Thou art a mark 'twere difficult to miss.
(Aims.)
BURGOMASTER.
[Page 37]

What, would'st thou murder me? Soldier, defend the em­peror's officer.

CONRAD.

Who comes there?

RHODOLPHA.
Ha, ha, ha, ha! who now doth hold the power?
Down on thy knees and bow—aye, bow to me,
The representative of Liberty.—
Quickly comply! or, by my father's head,
I'll offer up thy life a sacrifice
Unto thy suffering country. Quickly down.
(He kneels.)
Ha, ha, ha, ha! Why, what a thing art thou!
Think, how hath gluttony unnerv'd thy frame,
And sunk thee 'neath the level of a man.

SONG.

RHODOLPHA.
While thus with mind infirm, and limbs unnerv'd,
The townly glutton sinks, through vice, to shame;
The peasant, who from virtue never swerv'd,
Looks firmly up, and claims an honest name.
With health's true brace,
As he bounds to the chace,
His limbs are unconscious of pain:
At the Chamois' cry,
O'er the rocks see him fly,
And the glacier opposes in vain.
Exit.
CONRAD.

By the mass! she's the finest girl in Switzerland!—Cecily excepted.

BURGOMASTER.

Soldier!

CONRAD.

Who comes there?

BURGOMASTER.

Who sticks here! thou mean'st—What a young tygress! Come hither, rascal, and help me up.

CONRAD.
[Page 38]

A soldier should never leave his post:—But, if you will come here I will help you.

BURGOMASTER.

What, dost thou make a jest of me?

CONRAD.

Heav'n forbid that I should help your worship—to do that.

BURGOMASTER.

I would not have any body see me thus. Surely that is the governor—I must off—O! you vile dog—O! you curs'd—

(Crawls off in haste.)
CONRAD.

A perfect grey-hound by the mass! ha, ha, ha!

SCENE SECOND.

The Town-Hall of Al [...]dorf.—Burghers meeting.
1st BURGHER.

Sad times, neighbour.

2d BURGHER.

Aye, we shall soon have Albert and his Austrians quarter'd upon us.

1st BURGHER.

No doubt, no doubt! and then farewell happiness in Uri. Would it not be better to resist by arms?

2d BURGHER.

Why, truly, neighbour, I fear that would only make things worse. He would then hang us for rebels, and seize all our property into the bargain.

1st BURGHER.

Hush! here comes Tell.

Enter WILLIAM TELL.
TELL.
Now, fellow citizens, well met. Will you,
A little while, attention lend to me?
ALL BURGHERS.
[Page 39]

Hear Tell! hear William!

TELL.
Not for myself I feel, or think, or speak;
I love you, fellow citizens.
ALL BURGHERS.

We know it!

TELL.
The circumstances of the times so press,
That on this day's resolve depends our fate:
Submission, or determined opposition.
What follows on submission? Coward safety—
The privilege to drag our limbs about;
And, on a holiday, throw up our caps,
And shout "long live our noble emperor!"
Stern Opposition calls up glorious Danger:
But look behind this danger! there behold
Our rights secur'd, our peace, our happiness!
I am no artful orator, my friends!
You know me well;—a plain, well-meaning, man,
That speaks direct unto the point at once.
I have good information, that this day
Will be the last that we may here assemble.
The Austrian Albert is advancing fast.
'Tis easier far, my friends, to avoid the yoke,
Than, when 'tis on, to break it. Let us resolve.—
Be law and rightful government, the word;
All difference of opinion be abjur'd;
Own we no purpose but our country's good.
3d BURGHER.

No other object's worth a good man's thought!

TELL.
The men of Uri ever have been free;
And freemen's counsels still are moderate;—
For useful Science dwells with Liberty:—
While those accustom'd to the tyrant's chain,
When rouz'd, by sense of wrongs, to burst their bonds,
[Page 40]Are left alone to Passion's erring guidance.
Such are not we: we know our rights; have laws,
For which our fathers fought:—by them be guided:
Form, by them, our fixed resolutions;
And, to our friends without the city, publish.
Thus shall we force mankind this truth to own,
"Enlighten'd freemen know to rule themselves."
Enter LIEUTENANT.
LIEUTENANT.
I do command you hence, unto your homes!
The governor, henceforth, will not allow
Of these unlawful and seditious meetings.
TELL.
"Unlawful and seditious!" Slave in soul,
As in thine actions, darest thou utter falsehood?
Meet we not here, as erst our fathers met,
In open council, free to every one?
We are no party club, shut from the world;
Brooding o'er dark and secret machinations,
To lead away from Truth the minds of men.
Our doors are open; every man admitted;
And all opinions treated with respect.
Our numbers, as our sentiments, all known.
And thus we hurl defiance to thy master!
Resolv'd to die ere live the slaves of Austria!
LIEUTENANT.

You may repent this boldness ere 'tis long.

Exit Lieut.
TELL.
Now, countrymen, the die is cast. You stand
Pledg'd, thro' my words, to meet th' event with courage:
Unless you chuse—and I give free permission—
Still to hold back, and bow unto the yoke;
I standing as your offering of peace,
To gratify the tyrant, I have dar'd▪
BURGHERS
(Indignantly.)

No, William, no!

3d BURGHER.
[Page 41]

We'll live, or die, with thee!

TELL.
Ye are my countrymen! Ye are my friends!
Now, then, away! prepare your arms with haste.
Oh! it doth glad my heart to see men rise,
Indignant, spurning far their vile oppressors!—
When those entrusted, for the public weal,
By the people's voice, with delegated power,
Guide all their actions by the line of duty;
Making the people's good, in all, their study;
In all, attentive to the law supreme;—
Rights constitutional, or charter'd grants;—
How would that wretch deserve his country's curse,
Who, by ambition base, or interest, prompted;
Or, listening to the voice of giddy Faction,
Would interrupt them in their pious labours;—
Striving against authority so sacred!
But when Oppression shews his hideous front;
Whether in league with foreign foes he comes,
Or starts the weedy growth of soil our own;
Let us, with firm and dauntless opposition,
Resist until the monster is no more.
These are the sentiments I dare avow;
These are the principles for which I'll die.—
Is there one here who does not know his rights?
Let him go hence! Gesler will teach them to him!
Is there one here, who, knowing, dares not urge them?
If one, he is a self-form'd, dastard slave:
Associate fit for Albert. Speak your resolves.
ALL BURGHERS.

Equal rights, equal laws, equal liberty!

TELL.
Now all depart▪ be resolute, be free.
Exeunt Burghers.
The castle guards are weak. Ere Albert comes
That hold must be secur'd. Ay—it must be so—
[Page 42]LIEUTENANT enters behind with GUARDS.
LIEUTENANT.

Seize him!

(Guards surprize and disarm Tell.)

Bind him!

TELL.
What, hath it come to this, O Switzerland?
A citizen of Altdorf, seiz'd and bound!
But that my wonder at the daring deed,
Doth rise superior to my indignation,
I would not question such a thing as thou.
What hath emboldened Gesler to this act?
LIEUTENANT.

Why, to tell you the truth, Master Tell, we are reinforced by a part of the emperor's van-guard; who just now arrived, after gaining a victory over the men of Underwalden.

TELL.

A victory!

LIEUTENANT.

Why, to be sure, it was not so much a victory as an advant­age; that is, our troops suffered the rascals to cut to pieces a few hundred men; while the rest, making a glorious change of position, threw themselves, by a forced march, into the castle here.—So we are strong, my blustering cock. Follow with the prisoner.

TELL.

O, heaven be prais'd! the glorious game's begun!

Exeunt.

SCENE THIRD.

The Castle, Pole, &c. CONRAD stands on his Post sleep­ing and nodding.
CONRAD.

Who comes there? A murrain on this drowsiness!—Yaw —I was up so early—ay, and a pretty morning's work I've [Page 43] made of it! None of the burghers pass this way: so the governor's hat has nobody's bows but mine—and, to say the truth, they are rather on the nod order—familiar.—I don't see that they intend to relieve me; so I'll e'en sit myself down, draw my head into my shell, and nap it a while.

After CONRAD sleeps, enter BURGOMASTER on one side, TELL, LIEUTENANT and GUARDS on the other.
TELL.
O! have I met thee, Sir? See'st thou these chains?
If I mistake thee not, thou art the man,
Whom we, the much dup'd citizens of Altdorf,
Elected as our magistrate supreme.
Thou art the man, who, in our public hall,
Did swear with vigilance to guard our rights;
And execute the laws with equal justice.
See, now, before thy face, in bonds most vile,
A citizen of Altdorf. Is there power
In Switzerland, save in the magistrate?
If any other, it is lawless power:
And I do call on thee for thy protection,
As thou wilt answer it some future day.
Rouze up our burghers to a timely rescue;
And save thyself, and Switzerland, from shame.
BURGOMASTER.

Why, William, thou art warm. Thou let'st thy passion over-rule thy judgment: which is not well in men of note like thee; to whom the rabble look for an example. Thou hast vilified the good order and discipline of our Austrian friends.

TELL.
Away! no more! With Friendship's specious mask,
Did Austria send her armies to protect us.
That she preserv'd she for herself hath seiz'd;
And over-runs us with her hosts of slaves.
Thou, too, a vile apostate, willing slave—
BURGOMASTER.
[Page 44]

William, thou know'st me not. The good of Switzerland is ever in my thought. Indeed, I fear much thinking yet will be the death of me; or waste me down to nothing. From all my cogitations, I conclude, that we should yield these trifling forms and tokens of obedience to the emperor, in return for his protection.—It is but reasonable, too, that the emperor should tax our peasantry, to pay his soldiers.—'Tis but right. —Such men as thee, [...]ow, William, Albert loves, and would appoint to office, if thou would'st a good example to the vul­gar set, and yield him due respect.—Yet bow to yonder pole, and all shall be well with thee.

TELL.
My indignation did prevent my speech,
Or long ere this I had cut short thy falsehoods.
I bow my head unto no cap-crown'd pole;
Not even that, of Liberty the symbol.
The man of reason scorns idolatry;
And fears to trust enthusiastic zeal.
He walks upright; his face erect to heav'n;
Nor bows his head to aught but to his God.
(Crosses the Stage, first looking firmly upwards, then bow­ing, as in mental adoration.)
Come, lead away!—With such a wretch as this,
One who hath sold his soul for foreign gold,
To gratify his pamper'd body's cravings;
To parley, or to reason, is disgrace.
I see my doom. Yet, oh! my bleeding country,
If, by my death, thy sons are rous'd to vengeance,
And happiness and peace restor'd to thee,
With smiles I'll welcome the decisive blow!
Exeunt Tell, Lieutenant and Guards.
BURGOMASTER.

Ha, ha! to hear men talk of smiling at the gallows—as if hanging were a laughing matter.—It's pride, rank pride— Heaven keep me from such distinction! The very thought of suffocation choaks me. Yet we must all die. All flesh is [Page 45] mortal. If so, I have a double portion of mortality. This Tell never knew the joys of good living, or he would not be so ready to die. He eats when he's hungry, and drinks when he's dry.—Now, I eat that I may be hungry; provoking Ap­petite to the field, that I may have the pleasure of slaying him. While I am enabled to do this, I wish no change—No, no, 'tis far better to hold my office from the emperor, than to de­pend upon the voices of a parcel of razor-fac'd rogues, who envy me my ruddy cheeks, and eye my portly walk, with as keen a glance, as if I was a well-fed ox for the governor's table.

Struts off.
Enter CECILY.
CECILY.

O dear! O dear! I'm quite out of breath with running.— I wonder I had'n't broke every bone in my skin, in jumping out of that nasty, narrow window. And now I am out, I don't know where to look for Conrad. What, in the name of shell-fish, is this? O lud! O lud! O lud! Sure as the world it's my poor Conrad. They've murder'd him for his patriotism, box'd him up in an iron barrel, and throw'd him over the castle wall.

CONRAD.

Who comes there?

CECILY.

No, he is'n't dead. Now I have it! they've set him here for a sentry, and the stupid fellow has gone to sleep.—It's well nobody else found him.—Ha, ha, ha! what a figure!— I'll tickle his nose with a straw, 'till I wake him.

SONG.

(As she sings the last line of each verse, she tickles his nose.)
CECILY.
Come, Conrad, awake from your trance!
If some others had caught you, I trow,
They'd have made you on nothing to dance;
And in vain would you then have cried—
CONRAD.

Bow.

CECILY.
[Page 46]
What a dolt-head, to fall thus asleep!
'Twas this morning you said I was fair;
Yet awake even love could not keep,
The bowl-man who cries—
CONRAD
(Starting up.)

Who comes there?

O, Cecily! is it you? I dreamt that the governor's lieu­tenant was blowing snuff up my nose. Where hast been Cecily?

CECILY.

Why, I've been lock'd up, all the morning, in the lieuten­ant's closet.

CONRAD.

Ha!—lock'd up all the morning, with the lieutenant, in a closet!—Why—hey—he is a recruiting officer to be sure—

CECILY.

I did'n't say any such thing.—I tell you he was'n't with me. He very civilly askt me to walk in, as he had something to say about you. So, says he, "I must go out a little while: stay here 'till I come back." Out he went; lockt the door; and I saw no more of him.

CONRAD.

Aye, he wanted to make a volunteer of you.

CECILY.

So, I jumpt out of the window, and come to look for you.

CONRAD.

That's a dear good girl! O, Cecily! I've had a hard time of it, since I saw you. Such drilling, thumping, and fisting; and what's worst of all, I have not had a morsel of breakfast.

CECILY.

How shall I help you, Conrad?

CONRAD.

If I could once get away and join the bowmen, then I could marry you; and mistress Rhodolpha would promote you to be one of her virgins.

CECILY.
[Page 47]

That would be pure.

CONRAD.

Now, Cecily, if you will put on my cuirass and helmet, and stand sentry in my place, I may get off before they find out I'm gone.

CECILY.

What, that thing?

CONRAD.

Yes, its a kind of a closet.

CECILY.

Well, I wont object to going into a closet to serve you, Conrad.

CONRAD.

I don't know how I shall get out, unless I lie down and creep out of it, like a shrimp out of a lobster-shell. Here I come.

(He gets out of the cuirass and dresses up Cecily.)

I don't see but you make as good a soldier as I did. You will follow as soon as you get rid of the lieutenant and his guards?

CECILY.

Aye, never fear me.

CONRAD.

I don't: for if they can keep a woman away from the pretty fellow she loves, they must have found out a new system of politics. Good bye, Cecily. I hope they will pursue me with cuirassiers only.

Exit Conrad.
CECILY.

I hope he will get clear. Poor fellow! he has had a tedious time of it here. I'll sing a bit of a song, to pass away time, while I'm in my cage.

SONG.

Come all ye pretty maidens,
And listen unto me;
I'll tell ye of a lovyier,
That left his faithful she—

[Page 48]No, hang that! it's too dismal; I won't sing that. Let me see—aye—now for a merry stave.

There liv'd in Altdorf city fair,
A maiden blythe and free;
In crow-black ringlets fell her hair,
And beautiful was she.
She was lov'd by a young man,
Who was a mountaineer;
Who came to an untimely end,
As I shall make Appear.

O dear! this is worse than t'other. It puts me in mind of poor Conrad, who, I verily believe, will be hang'd.—

Enter LIEUTENANT and GUARDS. They march up to Cecily.
LIEUTENANT.

Halt! Well, rascal, why don't you challenge? Who have we here?

CECILY.

Do'n't be angry, Sir, it's only I;—got out of your closet into Conrad's.

LIEUTENANT.

O ho! so the rascal has deserted. Order a party of horse to scour the suburbs, and bring in all the fast-day-looking fel­lows they find. I have got you though, my pretty lass. Come along—I'll take care of you.

CECILY.

Why, you don't press women, do you?

Exeunt.

SCENE FOURTH.

The Governor's Palace. Enter GESLER, giving Orders to some of his followers.
GESLER.
See instant execution done upon him.
We'll teach the rogues to mutiny and growl.
[Page 49]There, where he did refuse to bow his head,
There be he hung. We'll see the execution.
PORTIA
(without.)

I will have way! who shall oppose my sorrows?

Enter PORTIA.
GESLER.

Whence this intrusion?

PORTIA.

'Tis Grief's privilege.

Where is the place that Grief and Pain intrude not?
I am the most unhappy wife of Tell;
Never unhappy in that name 'till now.
Thou hast, with power usurp'd, doom'd him to death.
Beware of what thou doest. Thou may'st, one day,
Have need of such a man as William Tell;
To moderate the fury of thy foes;—
When Switzers, in remembrance of his death,
Will tear thee limb from limb, nor heed thy cries.—
O pardon what I've said!—heed not my words—
I am distract with woe. O pity! pity!—
This morning saw me most supremely blest—
The best of husbands, and my little boy—
Who now shall guide, shall guard, his helpless youth!—
Enter LIEUTENANT.
LIEUTENANT.

Albert is slain! The emperor is slain!

GESLER.

What say'st thou man? Art mad?

PORTIA.

Now prais'd be heav'n!

LIEUTENANT.
An Austrian trooper even now arriv'd;
His horse's sides all bath'd in foam and gore,—
[Page 50]With desperate spurring; and he bade me say
The emperor hath fall'n by vile assassins.
GESLER.

Where is the army?

LIEUTENANT.
They have stop'd, amaz'd;
What their resolves he knows not.
GESLER.

Who commands?

LIEUTENANT.

Leopold of Austria.

GESLER.
Stop the execution—
Exit Lieut.
Lady, we'll shew thee that we can have mercy.—
Curses light on them!—We are merciful.—
Yet Tell hath much provok'd us, gentle dame.—
But we will pass it by.—We bear no malice.
PORTIA.
I will esteem, and will report it so;
And take no note of changing circumstance.
GESLER.
'Twere better for thee not!—thou dar'st not think
That we do fear to lead him to his death!
PORTIA.

I will not think so.

GESLER.
Ha! by heaven, the slaves
Will so interpret.—Curse them!—Hark thee, woman,
Hye thee to thy husband. Tell him to know us
For a kind master; merciful and just.—
PORTIA.

Master!—nay, pardon me, I will be thankful.

GESLER.
But he must somewhat do to pleasure us.—
If we too easily do set him free
It will be said we fear'd:—it might be thought so.
Now, forasmuch as we have often heard
[Page 51]Of William's archery, he must comply,
And set himself to make some sport for us:
And this shall be the manner. Near the pole,
Where William did refuse to bow his head,
We will erect a stake; there bind the boy,
Thy son; and on his head an apple place;
Which William, with his arrow, shall remove;—
The boy unhurt;—and Liberty reward him.
PORTIA.
O! hear you this ye heavens? Is this your mercy?
Monster accurst! with nature thus to sport;
Hoping to make the father wound the son.—
O! as thou hadst a mother, pity me!—
O! as thou art a father, pity Tell!—
Revoke thy sentence!—Draw not on thy name,
The never-dying curses of mankind!—
Mock not with Mercy's name!—
GESLER.
Hence with these clamours!
We will hear no more!—By heav'n it shall be so!
Provoke me not, or Tell shall surely die:—
Aye, and the youngster too. Away! be wise,
And lead thy husband to comply in time.
Exit.
PORTIA.
O hold my brain! Sure this is woe's extreme!
The pinnacle of mortal wretchedness!
My husband, and my child!—Methinks I see
The fatal arrow launch'd!—It strikes my boy!—
'Tis buried in his brain!—Hold William!—
Ha! let me fly this fever of the mind;
Nor add unto my wretched husband's woes!—
Power omnipotent! who hat'st injustice,
Wing, wing thy lightnings to this tyrant's brow;
And vindicate the majesty of Nature!
Exit.
[Page 52]

SCENE FIFTH.

The Mountains, a Water-Fall, and a distant View of a Part of the Lake. Enter WALTER, meeting ARNOLD MELCHTHAL and BOWMEN.
WALTER.
Joy, joy to Switzerland! The tyrant's dead!
Even in the sight of all his numerous host,
A single dagger laid proud Albert low!
ARNOLD.

Who did the glorious deed?

WALTER.
One who deserves
No praises for the act; for private injury
Prompted to the blow: young John of Hapsburgh,
Nephew to the tyrant. Albert did keep
Possession of his signories; and John,
In dark revenge, hath plann'd this timely death.
ARNOLD.

The praise is due to wonder-working heaven.

SONG.

ARNOLD.
While man, with high-wrought impious pride,
Defies the will of heaven, and Nature's right;
Th' avenging bolt is launch'd, tho' undescried,
Which hurls the wretch to everlasting night.
Enter on one side WERNER with PIKEMEN, and RHO­DOLPHA with MAIDENS on the other.
RHODOLPHA.

Gesler hath seiz'd on Tell, and threatens death.

WERNER.
The death of Albert will be William's safety.
Proud Gesler dares not practi [...]e on his life,
[Page 53]Unless he hath an Austrian army 'round him.
RHODOLPHA.

They say that Leopold leads the army on.

WERNER.
'Tis well, for he doth lead them to defeat.
We'll teach these Austrian slaves that full as dear
To Switzers is the barren pine-clad rock,
The cataract's roar, the whirlwind's thundering gust,
The humble cot and honest poverty,
As are to other men, in milder climes,
The endless-varied gifts of Art and Nature.
TRIO.
RHODOLPHA, ARNOLD, and 1st BOWMAN.
[Altered from Goldsmith.]
Dear is the homely cot, and dear the shed,
To which the soul conforms;
And dear to us the hill, whose snow-crown'd head
Uplifts us to the storms.
The child, if frighted with the din of war,
Or other sounds molest,—
The louder breaks the thunder on his ear,
Clings closer to the breast.
So to the Swiss, the mountain-torrent's roar,
The sweepy whirlwind's ills,
The thunder, echoing from the lake's crag'd shore,
But bind him to his hills.
CHORUS OF THE WHOLE.
Dear is the homely cot, and dear the shed,
To which the soul conforms;
And dear to us the hill, whose snow-crown'd head
Upbears us to the storms.
END OF ACT SECOND.
[Page 54]

ACT THIRD.

SCENE FIRST.

The Castle, Pole, &c. A Stake for binding the Boy. An elevated Seat for GESLER. Guards, Burghers, &c. WALTER FURST and WERNER STAFFACH, (disguised) among the Burghers.
WALTER.

BE cautious, Werner, and elude suspicion.

WERNER.

Will Tell accept the tyrant's curst conditions?

WALTER.
I know not, whether, trusting to his skill,
Or what deep purpose in his mind is hidden;
But William hath accepted Gesler's terms;
And, even now, the trial doth come on.
WERNER.
Inhuman villain! vers'd in cruelty,
He knows how much the tortures of the mind
Exceed all bodily pains; and thus contrives
To place Humanity's most tender feelings
Upon a rack of exquisite invention.
There will he sit on high, in fiend-like state,
To watch brave William's face, in hopes to see
Nature's fine workings in the father's soul;
Perhaps, in hopes to make the wretched sire,
The executioner of his harmless boy.
WALTER.
O how my heart bleeds for thee, valiant Tell!
But I do know thy firmness. Thou hast friends;
And if thy life this day is ta'en, O Tell!
More than one patriot's soul will wing its way;
Nor shall they unattended leave the world.
WERNER.

Gesler is coming; let us wait th' event.

They retire.
[Page 55] Enter GESLER and Attendants; he seats himself. LIEU­TENANT with the Guards.
GESLER.
Bring forth the boy, and bind him to the stake.
I much do fear that we do err in this:—
Thus lightly passing o'er seditious crimes:
But Switzerland in this shall mark our mercy.
(During this the boy is bound.)
Bring forth your prisoner.
Enter TELL in chains, guarded: PORTIA following.
PORTIA.
Oh, do not William! rather suffer death
Than point thy arrow 'gainst thy guiltless boy!
O, God of heaven! what piteous sight is this!
To see yon innocent, helpless victim bound
To the murderous stake!—Nay, William, never, never—
GESLER.

Hence with that clamorous woman! she disturbs us.

PORTIA.
I will not hence! I can defy thy force!
I reign supreme the queen of human sorrows!
Do I disturb thee, monster, by my presence?
O, it is well! I will be ever with thee;
By day, by night, I'll haunt thee with my curses!
Ay! I will strew thy couch all o'er with curses!
And o'er thy pillow they shall hang like fogs,
Shedding upon thy head foul blasts and mildews!
TELL.
Retire, my Portia!—let thy husband beg it!
Put confidence in me, and calm thy soul.
If thou dost stay, my hand may lose its firmness;
And thou shalt be the murderer of thy son.
Put faith in me.
BOY.
[Page 56]

My father will not hurt me.

PORTIA.

I will obey my husband.

(Turns and looks at the boy.)

Oh, my child!

Exit.
GESLER.
'Tis well thou dost comply in this, proud Tell;
And thy compliance is the price of life.
(Tell's chains are removed.)
The apple clean remov'd, and boy unhurt,
Thou hast thy liberty. So far our mercy.
But if thou dost, for safety of thy life,
Draw innocent blood from yonder helpless child;
That were a crime so great, we could not pardon.
The boy, but injured, thou shalt surely die.
TELL.
What mockery is this?—But hold thee Tell—
This is nor time, nor place, for wordy war.
Give to my hand my never-failing bow,
And let me from my quiver choose the shaft,
That bears the fate of thousands on its point.
(Tell selects two arrows, fixing one in his belt. The Lieu­tenant places the apple.)
Now heaven in mercy speed the shaft aright!
(Shoots.)
How fares the boy?
GESLER.
Curse on his steady aim!
(A general shout.)
Unbind the child and give him to his father.
TELL
(embraces the boy.)
Now, God be prais'd, 'tis so far o'er and well!
But mark me, Gesler, I'll be plain with thee;
Shewing, how insecure injustice is.
If I had miss'd my aim, or hurt my boy,
This arrow should have cleft thy heart in twain.
[Page 57] Enter PORTIA.
PORTIA
(speaks entering.)
Where is my child?—O give him to my arms!
It is—it is—too much!—Too much for speech—
(Embraces him.)
The pent-up tears, which almost burst my brain,
Rush forth, and choak the accents of my joy!
(Walter and Werner pass by Tell, speaking aside, during the last lines, and exeunt.)
TELL.

Portia, lead hence the boy.

PORTIA.

My child! my child!

Exit with the boy.
TELL.

I claim my liberty.

Enter an OFFICER.
OFFICER.
Leopold's at hand!
We can descry his signals from the hills.
TELL.

I do demand fulfillment of conditions.

GESLER.
Leopold at hand! why, ay, my friends, that's well!
Bind Tell again.
(They seize him.)
TELL.

Tyrant!

GESLER.
'Tis vain to talk;
The Duke of Austria now decides thy fate.
Lieutenant, order straight a bark prepar'd.—
I'll cross the lake and join the Austrian army;
Thy task shall be to awe the citizens.
[Page 58]Yet of their loyalty I make no doubt,
When Tell shall be removed. He goes with me.
I'll lodge him safe at Kussnacht. Quick, dispatch!
Exit Lieutenant.
Thou art a marksman, Tell, but I shall show
That I can better hit my mark than thou can'st.
Exit.
TELL.
Such ever are the promises of tyrants;
Such is their faith, such their respect for truth.
O Switzerland! I more lament for thee,
More feel thy woes, than ought can hap to Tell.
Yet, well I know thou wilt not basely bow
To Austria's yoke. No, thou wilt bravely struggle!
In my last moments, I shall most regret,
That I must not partake the glorious strife.
Exit guarded.

SCENE SECOND.

The Mountains—Violent Storm, Wind, Rain and Thunder. After the Storm has abated enter ARNOLD MELCHTHAL.

SONG.

ARNOLD.
Hark! from the mountain's awful head,
To strangers' hearts inspiring dread,
The genius of our hills in thunder speaks!
"Switzers, to arms! to arms! arise!"
"To arms!" each hollow cave replies.
"To arms! to arms!" from every echo breaks.
ARNOLD.
How terrible the blast swept o'er the lake!
Tho' long conversant with the ways of Nature,
In this, her sporting-place, yet never saw I
So sudden or so forcible convulsion.
With what a sweepy torrent rush'd the wind
Down yonder mountain's side! Trees from the earth
Drag'd, or whirl'd like straws, to gambol in the air,
[Page 59]Sunder'd their sinewy roots, or only serving
To tear away the rocks whereon they grew,
And magnify the ruin. Sure, methinks,
The genius of our hills, in thunders, thus
Proclaims impatience of these foreign arms,
And calls upon his sons to do him vengeance.
Enter RHODOLPHA.

SONG.

RHODOLPHA.
Haste, my Maidens, haste with me!
The genius of the storm is past;—
Exhausted by the whirlwind blast,
He murmuring rolls afar, to sport upon the sea.
Haste, my Maidens, haste away!
Let us to the mountain's brow,
Brushing rain-drops from each bough:
Pleasant is the sun-shine upon a rainy day.
Enter MAIDENS with Bows, &c.
RHODOLPHA.

Arnold, well met. Where lies the Austrian force?

ARNOLD.
Maiden, we may, on yonder distant hills,
Observe their signals. On the rocks around,
Our men impatient wait the war's direction.
Here comes your honour'd father from the town.
Enter WALTER FURST.
WALTER.
Well met, my children, I do bring you news.
William, with wond'rous archery, did cleave
The apple from the stripling's head. And now
His purpose is immediately to arm.
Hath Werner yet return'd?
ARNOLD.
[Page 60]

He hath not, Sir.

RHODOLPHA.
I see him now come bounding o'er yon rocks▪
From the margin of the lake. Behold his haste.
WALTER.
I parted with him, at the city gate,
To avoid the notice of the Austrian guard.
Enter WERNER STAFFACH.
WERNER.
Oh glorious, oh immortal, matchless, deed!
He comes this way—The tyrant Gesler's slain!
WALTER.

Who comes this way?

RHODOLPHA.

By whom did Gesler fall?

WERNER.
Pardon me, friends, I cannot speak in method—
'Twas Tell that slew him—here upon the lake—
WALTER.
Tell! why, we left him—
WERNER.
True—I say no more
Than that I saw—and scarcely that for joy.—
The sudden storm did stay me on you cliff
Which overhangs the lake. Thence, as I mus'd,
Viewing with wondering eye the windy war,
And mark'd how rude the angry wave beneath
Dash'd his white head upon the scornful rock,
I saw a boat approach, driven by the wind,
And toss'd among the waves, nor helmsman had she.
Proudly the waters bore her on, and soon the craggs
Had pierc'd her sides, and dash'd her to the deep.—
But then I saw the men within the boat
In earnest treaty with a prisoner.
[Page 61]They doff'd his chains; he sprang unto the helm;
The bark obey'd him, and he brav'd the seas.—
'Twas Tell—I knew him by his gallant mien!
WALTER.

O, curse on Gesler! then he did deceive him.

WERNER.
I now knew Gesler: pale the tyrant sate,
With eye aghast, viewing the warring elements;
And quaking round him sate his Austrian guard.
Soon came the bark to land; when, with a spring,
(Seizing an Austrian's cross-bow in the leap)
Tell touch'd the shore. The action launch'd the boat:
And instant from the bow an arrow flew;
Deep buried in the astonish'd tyrant's heart.
Oh! 'twas a wond'rous deed, none else had done it!
RHODOLPHA.
Behold! he comes; the glorious patriot comes!
Meet him, ye Maidens, with a song of triumph!

SONG.

RHODOLPHA.
He comes! he comes! the victor comes,
Who conquers in his country's cause;
Guiltless he comes, with glory crown'd,
And foes shall greet him with applause.
CHORUS.
He comes! &c.
ARNOLD.
Not so the bloodstain'd hero, he
Who murders but to gain a name:
Destruction's paths are th [...]se he seeks,
And curses waft him to his fame.
CHORUS.
He comes! &c.
[Page 62] Enter TELL. Bowmen and Pikemen enter from several parts.
TELL.
Now cease your sounds of soothing melody;
For we must tune our souls to death and discord.
Let us forswear all notes but those that flow
From clanging arms, stout strokes, and twanging bows,
'Till victory is ours, and Switzers free.
Albert is dead; the tyrant Gesler slain:—
Now is the smiling moment of our fortunes:
Now let us seize, or 'tis forever flown.
The Austrian troops already are astonish'd,
And want but good excuse to turn their backs.—
What tho' their numbers three times treble ours?
'Twill but ensure more glory to each man—
When he shall bare his arm and shew his son,
"Here fell an Austrian's sabre—but I slew him!"
Say, countrymen, when shall we rout these slaves?
WALTER.

Even now.

ALL.

Now, now!

TELL.

And who shall lead the war?

WALTER.

Who but thyself?

ALL.

Tell! Tell! brave William Tell!

TELL.
'Tis fit the chiefs of Schweitz and Underwalden,
And thou the venerable chief of Uri,
Should hold an equal share of all command,
All counsel. But for this day's exigence,
I do your confidence accept with thanks.—
Come! let us rather lead on Time than follow!
[Page 63]Some one among us must surprize the town;
The Austrian arms in sight, they feel secure;—
This will give 'vantage to the ready burghers,
Who straight must issue forth and join our force.
WALTER.

'Tis order'd well.

RHODOLPHA.
O leave to me the task,
With these, my merry Maids, to take the town.
TELL.
Now, by the virtues of my wife, I swear,
I like thy spirit, damsel, and thou shalt!
But we must send some troops, in case of ill,
To yield assistance, or to bring thee off.
ARNOLD.
That post be mine. The duty done, I'll lead
The armed burghers out to join the battle.
TELL.
So be it, gallant Melchthal. And I pray,
Find out my drooping wife, and cheer her spirit.—
Tell her that I am well—that Gesler's dead—
That Switzerland is free! Now let us on.
O, my brave countrymen! it joys my heart
To have the leading on of men like you.
Bend your tough bows, ye archers, draw the cords,
'Till the barb'd steel doth touch the stubborn yew.
'Tis for our rights we fight, our country, and our laws!
Exeunt.
(Rhodolpha and Arnold remain. Maidens, Bowmen, &c.)
DUET.
RHODOLPHA.
In storied page where shall we find
A man so great as Tell?
Where shall we look the world around,
For one whose deeds excell?
ARNOLD.
[Page 64]
Shall we in cities look and courts?
'Midst noblemen and kings?
Nature's true worth can ne'er be found
In artificial things.
BOTH.
O no, true worth is only found
Where Liberty doth dwell▪
Where none are lords, and none are slaves,
There look to find a Tell.
Exeunt.

SCENE THIRD.

The Castle, Pole, Stake, &c.—A Chair placed in the Cen­ter of the Stage, upper end. Enter LIEUTENANT and BURGOMASTER, CONRAD with Guards.
LIEUTENANT.

If you please, Sir, although the rascal was a volunteer, you shall set in judgment on him, because, he is a native; and we must keep terms with the burghers a while longer. You con­demn him, and I'll see him shot.

CONRAD.

Yes, they'll do my business between them. Indeed, gentle­men, you give yourselves too much trouble on any account.

BURGOMASTER.

Well, since you will have it so, I will sit in the judgment-seat. But I fear my tender mercy will prevent me from do­ing justice.

(Sits.)

Come hither, rascal! I see halter in your face.

CONRAD.

It's very much at your honour's service.

BURGOMASTER.

You have a gallows countenance. You are the sentinel that suffer'd me to be insulted this morning.

CONRAD.
[Page 65]

I thought your worship was big enough to take care of yourself.

BURGOMASTER.

What! does the scoundrel speak?

CONRAD.

Why, I'm not put here to cry "Bow;" am I?

BURGOMASTER.

The villain is too light to be hung; his weight would ne­ver draw a noose tight enough for suffocation. And, as for burning, 'twould be too merciful—'twould be over in an instant —he'd blaze up, and go out like a whiff of straw. Therefore I sentence him to be shot through with arrows. Choose your best archers; for a common marksman would never hit him.

CONRAD.

What's all this for? Nobody has accused me yet. I think my trial begins at the end—condemnation.

LIEUTENANT.

If it please your worship, we are a little out of form. Let me begin by declaring his crime. May it please your wor­ship, this rascal—

CONRAD.

My name is Conrad Steinhart.

LIEUTENANT.

This rascal is a deserter—He cannot deny it—He was taken in the fact. Therefore, in the emperor's name, I demand judgment.

BURGOMASTER.

You cannot deny it, rascal; for you was taken in the fact.

CONRAD.

I do deny it. You want to shoot me, because, I would not help you out of the mud, this morning. And you want me shot, that you may have Cecily all to yourself. Why don't you examine my witnesses? Send for Cecily.

LIEUTENANT.

What have we to do with Cecily?

CONRAD.

That's more than I know. I have to do with her though: so, send for her.

LIEUTENANT.
[Page 66]

Where is she?

CONRAD.

In your closet, I suppose.

LIEUTENANT
(aside.)
I have taken better care of her this time, my good fellow.
(Sees her.)
The Devil!
Enter CECILY.
CECILY.

O, Conrad! have I found you again?

(Seeing Lieutenant.)

So, my fine gentleman, you're here, are you? You thought I was safe enough, because you lock'd me up in a two-pair-of-stairs-bed-room.—

CONRAD.

Bed-room! Cecily?

CECILY.

Aye, that he did. He thought the windows were too high; but, I fackins, let me alone for that—ha, ha, ha! Pray, did you ever hear of such a thing as tying the sheets together, and letting oneself down?—Ha, ha, ha!—But, what are you doing here, Conrad?

CONRAD.

I'm not likely to do much, Cecily; but I'm afraid I'm about to suffer.

CECILY.

Oh, the goodness! the marcies! Why, they're not going to kill you? What will become of me? What will become of me? O, O, O!

BURGOMASTER.

Fellow! you have been condemned, found guilty, and tried. What have you to say against being immediately shot?

CONRAD.

I hope your worship don't think of such a thing—I have a great deal to say, and a great deal to do—I can't possibly think of dying to-day—

LIEUTENANT.
[Page 67]

Then you shall die without thinking, you dog. Bind him to the stake. Archers, prepare.

(They bind Conrad, he talking to them.)
CONRAD.

Gentlemen—good gentlemen!—gentlemen soldiers!—com­rades!—Why need you tie me?—You see I can't get away. You are all around me.—Since I must be shot, let me have a place to move in.—It's more honourable to hit a bird on the wing, than a poor devil tied to a stake—

CECILY.

O, O, O! Have all my prospects come to this? Am I never to be married? Never to be one of the virgins? O, O, O!

BURGOMASTER.

Take away that noisy woman.

CECILY.

You sha'n't take me away—I wo'n't go. Poor Conrad! since you must be shot, I'll stay and see the ceremony—It's the last kind office I can do you.

CONRAD.

Don't kill me, Cecily! Your sorrow is too moving! I feel as if a little thing would make me cry.

LIEUTENANT.

No more of this blubbering. Archers, take aim.

CONRAD.

A little farther off, gentlemen, if you please—A little far­ther off—You call yourselves marksmen—Consider your own reputations, if you will not consider my feelings—Where's the honour in hitting a poor fellow when the ends of your cross­bows almost touch his teeth?—

LIEUTENANT.

Take aim!

(As the guard prepare to shoot, a loud huzza is heard; they turn affrighted; a flight of arrows pass over the Stage, some falling on it. Enter RHODOLPHA and MAIDENS; the Austrians fly. Enter BOWMEN; they seize the Lieu­tenant and Burgomaster.)
CONRAD.
[Page 68]

Whiz! whirr! how the arrows fly about my ears! I think I'm as likely to be shot by one side as t'other. Do, Mrs. Rho­dolpha, have me untied.

RHODOLPHA.

What, my friend Conrad, faithful to your post?

CONRAD.

They've only changed it to a stake, Ma'am.

(They un­bind him.)

Thank you.—I've had a narrow squeak of it.— It was all your fault, Ma'am, you persuaded me to run away; but you came i'the nick.—Suppose we were to tie these two good-natured gentlemen to the stake. I don't know but I might hit the biggest myself.

RHODOLPHA.
That they deserve it well, I do believe;
But we, at present, have no time to try them.
CONRAD.

O, it's soon done. They have just been teaching me the way to dispatch business. "You've a damn'd hanging look— You can't deny it—Tie him to the stake—Take aim."—And it's all over.

Enter ARNOLD MELCHTHAL.
ARNOLD.
The castle is our own, the burghers arm'd,
And all goes well. Success was ne'er more full!
RHODOLPHA.
Lead off the prisoners. See them well secur'd;
But treat them with humanity.
(Lieutenant and Burgomaster are led off guarded.)
Now let us on, and lead the burghers forth
To second valiant Tell. We have yet to do
A world of business, ere the night-shade falls.
CONRAD.

Give me but good sword, buckler, and helmet—I'll excuse the cuirass—and if I don't show you that my life is worth sav­ing, [Page 69] may I never see Dapple an ambassador! Never see Cecily one of the virgins! or myself a bowl-man again.

SONG.

CECILY.
Good mistress, kind lady, my thanks receive,
I'm still your debtor, as long as I live,
For a gift, the best that mortal can give,
A husband that's honest and true.
We merrily follow, lead you the way;—
And grateful poor Cecily still shall pray,
And offer her wishes by night and by day,
For one who is worthy of you.
Right comely in person, and pure in mind,
A friend to his country, and all mankind;
Such, such is the helpmate Rhodolpha should find;
Each aiding the other through life;
Instructing and blessing the poor around,
Till want on our mountains no more is found;
Each Switzer, with true equality crown'd,
Shall bless and be bless'd with a wife.
ARNOLD.
Soon shall the affrighting trumpet cease its blast;
And Peace sit smiling on our hills sublime.
Then shall the tender maid, instead of arms,
Bear rosy wreaths, to entwine the wrestler's brow,
Or rustic victor in the sportive race:
Then, joining hand in hand, the blade scarce bending
To your tripping steps, around him featly dance,
Like elves, by moon-light, on the dewy lawn.
GLEE.
RHODOLPHA, ARNOLD, AND CECILY.
Come, my Maidens, haste away!
Finish, as begun, the day.
Then shall Peace lead Joy along,
"Follow, follow," be the song.
[Page 70]Dance around, link'd hand in hand;
Switzers! this is Freedom's land.
Then aside our bows be laid;
Blythe the youth shall meet the maid;
Health's bright glow, in every face,
Virtue's brow, and Freedom's grace.
Come, my merry maids, away!
Finish well this glorious day.
Come, my Maidens, haste away!
Finish, as begun, the day.
Then shall Peace lead Joy along,
"Follow, follow," be the song.
Dance around, link'd hand in hand;
Switzers! this is Freedom's land.
Exeunt.

SCENE FOURTH.

The Field of Battle, surrounded by Mountains—Alarms— Trumpets. Enter LEOPOLD, Duke of Austria, attended.
LEOPOLD.
Curse on their archery! There's not a shaft
Falls guiltless of a gallant Austrian's death.
Order the horsemen make another charge;
And rather stake their steeds upon the crags,
Than thus stand harmless butts for cross-bow shot.—
Already, are the horses mainly wounded.—
They madly paw the ground, or, all impatient,
Heedless of the rein, they whirl their helpless
Riders round the field, or hurl them from their seats.—
One effort more. Sound trumpets to the charge!
Strike up, ye drums! for Austrians have forgot
The valiant spirit of their ancestry.
Remember whom you have to deal withal;
Undisciplined, unwarlike mountaineers.
O! never be it said, we fled before them.—
[Page 71]For me, I swear, before you all this day,
I will not quit the field, until I'm borne
Upon the victor's car, or on the bier.
Beat drums! sound trumpets! Death or victory!
Exeunt.

SCENE FIFTH.

Another Part of the Field—Alarm—Horns and Trumpets. Enter WALTER of Uri, defending himself against num­bers—They press hard—Horn sounds, and enter RHO­DOLPHA and Maidens—Austrians fly.
RHODOLPHA.

Art thou unhurt, my father?

WALTER.
Yes, my child—
And, prais'd be heaven, I owe my life to thee!
Hot in pursuit, I left my men behind;
And found my error when it was too late.
RHODOLPHA.

Altdorf is ours—the burghers join the fight.—

WERNER.
O, 'tis a glorious day! Brave William Tell
Scatters destruction wheresoe'er he moves!—
But for the valour of the Austrian duke,
Who, all on foot, bears terror on his sword,
And cheers in every part his fainting troops,
The fortunes of the day ere this were ours.
But still the scales hang doubtful.
RHODOLPHA.
Let us on!
A weight, tho' small, will turn a trembling beam!
Exeunt.
[Page 72] Alarm. Enter LEOPOLD and WERNER fighting—WER­NER retires fighting. Re-enter LEOPOLD.
LEOPOLD.
'Twas bravely fought, young man! Curse on my slaves!
In vain, I strive, in vain, add death to death,
And carry carnage through the affrighted field—
I am unseconded. Some man, or demon
In an human shape, spreads consternation
Wild, where'er he comes—enacting wonders.—
My bravest veterans turn their backs, and fly,
A tim'rous flock, before him. Grant, kind heaven!
That, by his death, I may retrieve the field,
Or die beneath his sword!
Alarm. Exit.
Enter CONRAD.
CONRAD.

Let me breathe.—How the Burgomaster would sweat if he had a little of this work.—I think I've scor'd a few of them.— For any thing I see to the contrary, I make as good a soldier as the best of them—unless it be Tell:—to be sure he does lay about him like a devil.—There's the duke, too, pays away among our bowmen, whenever he can come at them.—I'll take another touch—It's nothing to be shot at when one has room to move about; but to be tied to a stake—O! my blood cur­dles at the thought.—Now for a little more honour.—By the mass, there's the duke.—Too much honour is dangerous to honesty—'ware honesty.

Exit running.
A Party of Swiss retire across the Stage, pursued by LEO­POLD. He stops.
LEOPOLD.
I but exhaust my strength in unavailing
Slaughter. In vain I seek this peasant Mars:
[Page 73]He moves a rapid whirlwind o'er the field.
The tumult this way comes—By heaven he comes!
The lion this way comes, his prey pursuing.
(Enter Austrians, as pursued by Tell. Leopold attempts to rally them in vain.)
Turn, cowards!—Dastard hinds!—Flight has no safety.—
(Kills one.)
The coward finds a foe where'er he turns.
Enter TELL.
TELL.

I thank thee; for, in truth, my arm is weary.

LEOPOLD.
Thou wilt have need of all thy manly vigour
To reap the glory yet reserv'd for thee;
Or guard the harvest thou hast gather'd in,
So gallantly, to-day. Now for the prize:—
'Tis Leopold, Duke of Austria, meets thy arm.
TELL.
Thou dost mistake me much, proud lord, to think
That love of glory brought me to the field.
O, no! the fame that springs from human woe,
Is, to republicans, but infamy.
This day I've bath'd my hands in Austrian blood;
But 'twas in self-defence alone I did it;
To save my country, and myself, from wrong.
Heaven is my witness, I had rather much
That every Austrian, who has fallen to-day,
Were safe at home, and crown'd with happiness!
LEOPOLD.

Ha! hast thou such a mind? Sure thou art noble?

TELL.
In Nature's scale, I'm noble as the noblest:
She made me man, and vice has ne'er debas'd me.
Republicans no other nobles know!
Without a hope thy army is defeated.
[Page 74]My name is Tell. Surrender up thy sword,
And I will give thee honourable treatment;
Nay, send thee home, the friend of Switzerland.
LEOPOLD.
I thank thee, Tell: But, wert thou once remov'd,
The day for Austria might be yet retriev'd.—
If not, the gallant men who died to-day,
Shall not seek other worlds without a leader.
TELL.
Why, then, no further parley. We shall see
Who bears the stouter arm, or heavier sword,
The noble, or the man.
(They fight fiercely; Leopold appears to be wounded several times, and retires still fighting off. Enter CONRAD as looking at them.)
CONRAD.

The lion and the tyger are at it—Well said lion—well said tyger—Well hit—well put—The tyger bleeds, the tyger bleeds —Huzza—Well—

(Whilst Conrad is engaged in viewing the combat, a heavy-armed Austrian Cuirassier enters, and strikes him on the helmet, from behind. Conrad recovers.)

—Thanks be to my head-piece! O you cowardly piece of clock-work!—strike a man behind!—I'll crack your lobster-shell, and pull you out by the heels.—Strike a man—

(Fight; the Austrian retires.)

Aye! you may as well stand still—I know the weight of your coat—You might as well run with a house on your back—I'll unkennel you—Strike a man, and ne'er challenge him!

Exeunt, fighting.
Enter on one side TELL, with the Duke of Austria's fea­thers in his helm, his sword drawn. On the other, WALTER, ARNOLD, RHODOLPHA, CONRAD, Maidens, Bowmen and Pikemen.
TELL.
We will be proud; for Switzerland is free!
[Page 75]See ye, my friends, how gay my helmet looks?
We've pluckt a plume from Austria's crested cap;
And given, this day, a lesson unto tyrants?
ARNOLD.

We hail thee, William, saviour of thy country!

TELL.
Not so, not so; there's not a man who fought,
And risk'd his life, this day, to save his country,
But doth deserve as much as William Tell.
He did exert his all; did risk his all;
And I have done no more. Thank thee, Rhodolpha,
For thy gallant aid. Thank thee, brave Walter—
O! how the fire of youth shone in thy deeds,
Mocking the frosty honours of thy head!
And, valiant Arnold, I did view thy acts,
Which well became the lover of Rhodolpha.
To you I owe the safety of my wife;
The safety of my boy. But where is Werner?
WALTER.
I found him sorely wounded on the field,
By Austria's Duke, and faint with loss of blood;
But since I learn not dangerous.
TELL.
O, 'tis well!
It is an almost bloodless victory,
Upon our part. And those that died are bless'd!
Enter PORTIA and BOY.
If ought of good I've done, here's my reward.
(Embraces them.)
For this the patriot fights, for this he bleeds;
Security and peace with those he loves.
PORTIA.
O! art thou safe? Unhurt? Have all the shafts
Of malice and of war, fall'n bloodless round thee?
When I look back on this eventful day,
[Page 76]My mind is 'wilder'd 'midst the woes we've past.
(They retire up.)
ARNOLD.
If I have ought deserv'd, here let me look
For my reward.
RHODOLPHA.

I do fulfil my promise.

(Gives her hand.)
Enter CECILY.
CONRAD.

And here comes my reward. To be sure she is not of the most delicate;—yet, let me tell you, she's been in great demand to-day. And, if a man is to judge of his merits by his misfor­tunes, I think I have gone through as many perils as the best of you.

CECILY.

O! Conrad, I'm glad I have found you—I've had a par'lous time looking for you. There was no keeping clear of the Austrian soldiers.

CONRAD.

Why, where are they?

CECILY.

Why, don't you see them all about the field there?—nasty, dead, grum looking fellows—I never could bear a dead man.

CONRAD.

I'm very glad I wasn't killed for your sake, Cecily.

CECILY.

Ah! a'n't you, Conrad?

TELL
(advancing.)
Thus, countrymen, by virtue, and by courage,
All foreign foes are driv'n from Switzerland.
Now let us guard against domestic faction.
Draw we our federal bands close and more close;
Our interest, happiness, and strength but one.
Let every man remember, private virtue
Is the true basis of all public good.—
[Page 77]Summon the fathers of our land to meet,
And delegate to them, in trust, our power.
Their's be the task to guard our happiness,
By wholesome laws: be it ours to reverence them.
Thus acting, we are safe from every foe,
And shall deserve eternal LIBERTY!

SONG.

TELL.
When heaven pours blessings all around,
O! may mankind be grateful found,
And not reject the good!
In grateful thanks their thoughts arise;
Their laws, their rights, o'er all things prize,
And guard them with their blood.
ARNOLD MELCHTHAL.
Ye youths, to Melchthal look and learn;—
It's blest reward see Virtue earn;—
In Folly's paths ne'er rove:
Folly and Vice but lead to woe;
From Virtue purest pleasures flow,
Health, Liberty and Love.
RHODOLPHA.
If foreign foes our land invade,
Like me, may each undaunted maid,
A patriot heart display:
Thus each address the youths who love—
"By deeds alone your virtue prove;
The price of worth I pay."
CECILY.
Now war is o'er, and Conrad mine,
I'll make my baskets neat and fine,
Thro' Altdorf's streets to cry:
When Dapple's found, 'twill all be well,
We'll baskets, bowls and ladles sell—
Who'll buy our wares!—who'll buy!
CHORUS OF THE WHOLE.
[Page 78]
When heaven pours blessings all around,
O! may mankind be grateful found,
And not reject the good!
In grateful thanks their thoughts arise;
Their laws, their rights, o'er all things prize,
And guard them with their blood.
[figure]
[Page]

A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SWITZERLAND; FROM THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, TO THE FINAL ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HELVETIC CONFEDERACY, BY THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH.

[Page]

ERRATA IN THE OPERA.

Page 10, line 7th, dele "enters" before "crying." Line 18th, for "pavers" read "pavements"

Page 11, line 23d, for "or the other" read "and the other."

Page 64, scene third, after "stage" dele "upper end."

Page 65, line 3d, for "does" read "dares."

Page 71, scene fifth, before "O, 'tis a glorious day," for "Werner" read "Walter."

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