Wilhelm Tell [23]
of my soul For this great world and its tumultuous strife, What were they, but a yearning after thee? In glory's path I sought for thee alone, And all my thirst of fame was only love. But if in this calm vale thou canst abide With me, and bid earth's pomps and pride adieu, Then is the goal of my ambition won; And the rough tide of the tempestuous world May dash and rave around these firm-set hills! No wandering wishes more have I to send Forth to the busy scene that stirs beyond. Then may these rocks, that girdle us, extend Their giant walls impenetrably round, And this sequestered happy vale alone Look up to heaven, and be my paradise! BERTH. Now art thou all my fancy dream'd of thee. My trust has not been given to thee in vain. RUD. Away, ye idle phantoms of my folly; In mine own home I'll find my happiness. Here, where the gladsome boy to manhood grew, Where ev'ry brook, and tree, and mountain peak, Teems with remembrances of happy hours, In mine own native land thou wilt be mine. Ah, I have ever loved it well, I feel How poor without it were all earthly joys. BERTH. Where should we look for happiness on earth, If not in this dear land of innocence? Here, where old truth hath its familiar home. Where fraud and guile are strangers, envy ne'er Shall dim the sparkling fountain of our bliss, And ever bright the hours shall o'er us glide. There do I see thee, in true manly worth, The foremost of the free and of thy peers, Revered with homage pure and unconstrain'd, Wielding a power that kings might envy thee. RUD. And thee I see, thy sex's crowning gem, With thy sweet woman's grace and wakeful love, Building a heaven for me within my home, And, as the spring-time scatters forth her flowers, Adorning with thy charms my path of life, And spreading joy and sunshine all around. BERTH. And this it was, dear friend, that caused my grief, To see thee blast this life's supremest bliss With thine own hand. Ah! what had been my fate, Had I been forced to follow some proud lord, Some ruthless despot, to his gloomy keep! Here are no keeps, here are no bastion'd walls To part me from a people I can bless. RUD. Yet, how to free myself; to loose the coils Which I have madly twined around my head? BERTH. Tear them asunder with a man's resolve. Whate'er ensue, firm by thy people stand! It is thy post by birth. [Hunting horns are heard in the distance.] But hark! The chase! Farewell,--'tis needful we should part--away! Fight for thy land; thou fightest for thy love. One foe fills all our souls with dread; the blow That makes one free, emancipates us all. [Exeunt severally.]
SCENE III. A meadow near Altdorf. Trees in the foreground. At the back of the stage a cap upon a pole. The prospect is bounded by the Bannberg, which is surmounted by a snow-capped mountain. Friesshardt and Leuthold on guard
FRIESS. We keep our watch in vain. Zounds! not a soul Will pass, and do obeisance to the cap. But yesterday the place swarm'd like a fair; Now the old green looks like a desert, quite, Since yonder scarecrow hung upon the pole. LEUTH. Only the vilest rabble show themselves, And wave their tattered caps in mockery at us. All honest citizens would sooner make A weary circuit over half the town, Than bend their backs before our master's cap. FRIESS. They were obliged to pass this way at noon, As they were coming from the Council House. I counted then upon a famous catch, For no one thought of bowing to the cap, But Rosselmann, the priest, was even with me: Coming just then from some sick man, he takes His stand before the pole,--lifts up the Host-- The Sacrist, too, must tinkle with his bell, When down they dropp'd on knee--myself and all-- In reverence to the Host, but not the cap. LEUTH. Hark ye, companion, I've a shrewd suspicion, Our post's no better than the pillory. It is a burning shame, a trooper should Stand sentinel before an empty cap, And every honest fellow must despise us. To do obeisance to a cap, too! Faith, I never heard an order so absurd! FRIESS. Why not, an't please you, to an empty cap? You've duck'd, I'm sure, to many an empty
SCENE III. A meadow near Altdorf. Trees in the foreground. At the back of the stage a cap upon a pole. The prospect is bounded by the Bannberg, which is surmounted by a snow-capped mountain. Friesshardt and Leuthold on guard
FRIESS. We keep our watch in vain. Zounds! not a soul Will pass, and do obeisance to the cap. But yesterday the place swarm'd like a fair; Now the old green looks like a desert, quite, Since yonder scarecrow hung upon the pole. LEUTH. Only the vilest rabble show themselves, And wave their tattered caps in mockery at us. All honest citizens would sooner make A weary circuit over half the town, Than bend their backs before our master's cap. FRIESS. They were obliged to pass this way at noon, As they were coming from the Council House. I counted then upon a famous catch, For no one thought of bowing to the cap, But Rosselmann, the priest, was even with me: Coming just then from some sick man, he takes His stand before the pole,--lifts up the Host-- The Sacrist, too, must tinkle with his bell, When down they dropp'd on knee--myself and all-- In reverence to the Host, but not the cap. LEUTH. Hark ye, companion, I've a shrewd suspicion, Our post's no better than the pillory. It is a burning shame, a trooper should Stand sentinel before an empty cap, And every honest fellow must despise us. To do obeisance to a cap, too! Faith, I never heard an order so absurd! FRIESS. Why not, an't please you, to an empty cap? You've duck'd, I'm sure, to many an empty