(His chains fall off.) What's that you Are free from blood, and have no gust for it, I'll not Murder my boy for Gesler. Ges. Dost thou consent? Tell. Give me my bow and quiver! Ges. For what? Tell. To shoot my boy! Alb. No, father, no! To save me! You'll be sure to hit the apple. Will you not save me, father? Tell. Lead me forth,— I'll make the trial! Alb. Thank you! Tell. Thank me!-Do You know for what?—I will not make the trial, To take him to his mother in my arms, And lay him down a corpse before her! Ges. Then He dies this moment; and you certainly Do murder him whose life you have a chance To save, and will not use it. Alb. Father Tell. Speak not to me. Let me not hear thy voice,-thou must be dumb; And so should all things be;-earth should be dumb! And heaven,—unless its thunders muttered at The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it! Give me My bow and quiver! Ges. That is your ground. Now shall they measure thence A hundred paces. Take the distance. Tell. Is The line a true one? Ges. Be thankful, slave, Our grace accords thee life on any terms. Tell. I will be thankful, Gesler!-Villain, stop! What matter, whether to or from the sun? Tell. I'd have it at my back. The sun should shine Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots. I cannot see to shoot against the sun: I will not shoot against the sun! Ges. Give him his way! Thou hast cause to bless my mercy. Tell. I shall remember it. I'd like to see The apple I'm about to shoot at. Ges. Show me The basket. There! (Gives a very small apple.) Ges. I know I have. Tell. Oh, do you? But you see The colour of 't is dark,-I'd have it light, Ges. Take it as it is: Thy skill will be the greater, if thou hit'st it. Tell. True, true,-I didn't think of that ;-I wonder I did not think of that. Give me some chance To save my boy,-(Throws away the apple) I will not murder him, If I can help it,-for the honour of The form thou wear'st, if all the heart is gone. Ges. Well, choose thyself. (Hands a basket of apples. Tell takes one.) Tell. Have I a friend among The lookers on? Verner. Here, Tell! Tell. I thank thee, Verner! Take the boy And set him, Verner, with his back to me. Set him upon his knees;-and place this apple Upon his head, so that the stem may front me,— Thus, Verner: charge him to keep steady,-tell him I'll hit the apple! Verner, do all this More briefly than I tell it thee. Alb. May I not speak with him before I go? Tell. My boy! (Holding out his arms to him.) Go, boy,-be thou but steady, I will hit My bow! (Sarnem gives the bow.) I'm sure of thee,-I know thy honesty; Thou'rt stanch, stanch :-I'd deserve to find thee treacherous, Could I suspect thee so. Come, I will stake My all upon thee! Let me see my quiver. (Retires.) The point, you see, is bent, the feather jagged; Ges. Let him have Another. (Tell examines it.) Tell. Why, 'tis better than the first, But yet not good enough for such an aim As I'm to take. 'Tis heavy in the shaft: I'll not shoot with it! (Throws it away.) Let me see my quiver. Bring it! 'tis not one arrow in a dozen I'd take to shoot with at a dove, much less A dove like that! What is't you fear? I'm but A naked man, a wretched naked man! Your helpless thrall, alone in the midst of you, His hand. What can I do in such a strait With all the arrows in that quiver? Come, Will you give it me or not? Ges. It matters not. Show him the quiver. (Tell kneels and picks out an arrow, then secretes one in his vest.) Tell. I'm ready! Keep silence, for (To the people) Heaven's sake! and do not stir, and let me have Your prayers, your prayers:-and be my witnesses, 'Tis only for the chance of saving it. Now, friends, for mercy's sake, keep motionless (Tell shoots; and a shout of exultation bursts from the crowd.) Ver. (Rushing in with Albert.) Thy boy is safe! no hair of him is touched! Alb. Father, I'm safe!-your Albert's safe! Dear father, Speak to me! speak to me! Ver. He cannot, boy! Open his vest, and give him air. (Albert opens his father's vest, and an arrow drops; Tell starts, fixes his eyes on Albert, and clasps him to his breast.) Tell. My boy! my boy! Ges. For what Hid you that arrow in your breast? Speak, slave! Would, at thy downfall, shout from every peak! XIII.-TELL TO HIS NATIVE MOUNTAINS. YE crags and peaks, I'm with you once again! And bid your tenant welcome to his home Of awe divine. Ye guards of liberty, I'm with you once again!—I call to you Scaling yonder peak, Of measuring the ample range beneath And round about; absorbed, he heeded not The death that threatened him. I could not shoot-'Twas Liberty! I turned my bow aside, And let him soar away! Heavens! with what pride I used How happy was I then! I loved Its very storms. Yes, I have often sat In my boat at night, when midway o'er the lake— |