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The Viceroy hates thee, fain would injure thee, For thou past cross'd his wish to bend the Swiss In homage to this upstart house of princes, And kept them staunch, like their good sires of old, In true allegiance to the Empire. Say, Is't not so, Werner? Tell me, am I wrong?
STAUFF.
'Tis even so. For this doth Gessler hate me.
GERT.
He burns with envy, too, to see thee living Happy and free on thine ancestral soil, For he is landless. From the Emperor's self Thou hold'st in fief the lands thy fathers left thee.
There's not a prince i' the Empire that can show A better t.i.tle to his heritage; For thou hast over thee no lord but one, And he the mightiest of all Christian kings.
Gessler, we know, is but a younger son, His only wealth the knightly cloak he wears; He therefore views an honest man's good fortune With a malignant and a jealous eye.
Long has he sworn to compa.s.s thy destruction.
As yet thou art uninjured. Wilt thou wait Till he may safely give his malice vent?
A wise man would antic.i.p.ate the blow.
STAUFF.
What's to be done?
[Ill.u.s.tration: STAUFFACHER AND HIS WIFE GERTRUDE As performed at the Royal Theatre, Dresden, 1906.]
GERT.
Now hear what I advise.
Thou knowest well, how here with us in Schwytz All worthy men are groaning underneath This Gessler's grasping, grinding tyranny.
Doubt not the men of Unterwald as well, And Uri, too, are chafing like ourselves, At this oppressive and heart-wearying yoke.
For there, across the lake, the Landenberg Wields the same iron rule as Gessler here-- No fishing-boat comes over to our side, But brings the tidings of some new encroachment, Some fresh outrage, more grievous than the last.
Then it were well that some of you--true men-- Men sound at heart, should secretly devise, How best to shake this hateful thraldom off.
Full sure I am that G.o.d would not desert you, But lend His favor to the righteous cause.
Hast thou no friend in Uri, one to whom Thou frankly may'st unbosom all thy thoughts?
STAUFF.
I know full many a gallant fellow there, And n.o.bles, too--great men, of high repute, In whom I can repose unbounded trust.
[_Rising_.]
Wife! What a storm of wild and perilous thoughts Hast thou stirr'd up within my tranquil breast!
The darkest musings of my bosom thou Hast dragg'd to light, and placed them full before me; And what I scarce dared harbor e'en in thought, Thou speakest plainly out with fearless tongue.
But has thou weigh'd well what thou urgest thus?
Discord will come, and the fierce clang of arms, To scare this valley's long unbroken peace, If we, a feeble shepherd race, shall dare Him to the fight that lords it o'er the world.
Ev'n now they only wait some fair pretext For setting loose their savage warrior hordes, To scourge and ravage this devoted land, To lord it o'er us with the victor's rights, And, 'neath the show of lawful chastis.e.m.e.nt, Despoil us of our chartered liberties.
GERT.
You, too, are men; can wield a battle axe As well as they. G.o.d ne'er deserts the brave.
STAUFF.
Oh wife! a horrid, ruthless fiend is war, That smites at once the shepherd and his flock.
GERT.
Whate'er great Heaven inflicts, we must endure; But wrong is what no n.o.ble heart will bear.
STAUFF.
This house--thy pride--war, unrelenting war Will burn it down.
GERT.
And did I think this heart Enslaved and fettered to the things of earth, With my own hand I'd hurl the kindling torch.
STAUFF.
Thou hast faith in human kindness, wife; but war Spares not the tender infant in its cradle.
GERT.
There is a Friend to innocence in heaven.
Send your gaze forward, Werner--not behind.
STAUFF.
We men may die like men, with sword in hand; But oh, what fate, my Gertrude, may be thine?
GERT.
None are so weak, but one last choice is left.
A spring from yonder bridge and I am free!
STAUFF. (_embracing her_).
Well may he fight for hearth and home, that clasps A heart so rare as thine against his own!
What are the host of Emperors to him?
Gertrude, farewell! I will to Uri straight.
There lives my worthy comrade, Walter Furst; His thoughts and mine upon these times are one.
There, too, resides the n.o.ble Banneret Of Attinghaus. High though of blood he be, He loves the people, honors their old customs.
With both of these I will take counsel how To rid us bravely of our country's foe.
Farewell! and while I am away, bear thou A watchful eye in management at home.
The pilgrim journeying to the house of G.o.d, And holy friar, collecting for his cloister, To these give liberally from purse and garner.
Stauffacher's house would not be hid. Right out Upon the public way it stands, and offers To all that pa.s.s a hospitable roof.
[_While they are retiring_, TELL _enters with_ BAUMGARTEN.]
TELL.
Now, then, you have no further need of me.
Enter yon house. 'Tis Werner Stauffacher's, A man that is a father to distress.
See, there he is, himself! Come, follow me.