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The Life of Friedrich Schiller Part 17

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ARMGART. No, no! I stir not From the spot till you give up my husband!

'Tis the sixth month he has lain i' th' dungeon, Waiting for the sentence of some judge, in vain.

GESSLER. Woman! Wouldst' lay hands on me? Begone!

ARMGART. Justice, Landvogt! thou art judge o' th' land here, I' th' Kaiser's stead and G.o.d's. Perform thy duty!

As thou expectest justice from above, Show it to us.

GESSLER. Off! Take the mutinous rabble From my sight.

ARMGART [_catches the bridle of the horse_].

No, no! I now have nothing More to lose. Thou shalt not move a step, Vogt, Till thou hast done me right. Ay, knit thy brows, And roll thy eyes as sternly as thou wilt; We are so wretched, wretched now, we care not Aught more for thy anger.

GESSLER. Woman, make way!

Or else my horse shall crush thee.

ARMGART. Let it! there-

[_She pulls her children to the ground, and throws herself along with them in his way._

Here am I with my children: let the orphans Be trodden underneath thy horse's hoofs!

'Tis not the worst that thou hast done.

RUDOLPH. Woman! Art' mad?

ARMGART [_with still greater violence_].

'Tis long that thou hast trodden.

The Kaiser's people under foot. Too long!

O, I am but a woman; were I a man, I should find something else to do than lie Here crying in the dust.

[_The music of the Wedding is heard again, at the top of the Pa.s.s, but softened by distance._

GESSLER. Where are my servants?

Quick! Take her hence! I may forget myself, And do the thing I shall repent.

RUDOLPH. My lord, The servants cannot pa.s.s; the place above Is crowded by a bridal company.

GESSLER. I've been too mild a ruler to this people; They are not tamed as they should be; their tongues Are still at liberty. This shall be alter'd!

I will break that stubborn humour; Freedom With its pert vauntings shall no more be heard of: I will enforce a new law in these lands; There shall not-

[_An arrow pierces him; he claps his hand upon his heart, and is about to sink. With a faint voice_

G.o.d be merciful to me!

RUDOLPH. Herr Landvogt-G.o.d! What is it? Whence came it?

ARMGART [_springing up_].

Dead! dead! He totters, sinks! 'T has. .h.i.t him!

RUDOLPH [_springs from his horse_].

Horrible!-O G.o.d of Heaven!-Herr Ritter, Cry to G.o.d for mercy! You are dying.

GESSLER. 'Tis Tell's arrow.

[_Has slid down from his horse into Rudolph's arms, who sets him on the stone bench._

TELL [_appears above, on the point of the rock_].

Thou hast found the archer; Seek no other. Free are the cottages, Secure is innocence from thee; thou wilt Torment the land no more.

[_Disappears from the height. The people rush in._

STuSSI [_foremost_]. What? What has happen'd?

ARMGART. The Landvogt shot, kill'd by an arrow.

PEOPLE [_rushing in_]. Who?

Who is shot?

[_Whilst the foremost of the wedding company enter on the Scene, the hindmost are still on the height, and the music continues._

RUDOLPH. He's bleeding, bleeding to death.

Away! Seek help; pursue the murderer!

Lost man! Must it so end with thee? Thou wouldst not Hear my warning!

STuSSI. Sure enough! There lies he Pale and going fast.

MANY VOICES. Who was it killed him?

RUDOLPH. Are the people mad, that they make music Over murder? Stop it, I say!

[_The music ceases suddenly; more people come crowding round._

Herr Landvogt, Can you not speak to me? Is there nothing You would entrust me with?

[_Gessler makes signs with his hand, and vehemently repeats them, as they are not understood._

Where shall I run?

To Kussnacht! I cannot understand you: O, grow not angry! Leave the things of Earth, And think how you shall make your peace with Heaven!

[_The whole bridal company surround the dying man with an expression of unsympathising horror._

STuSSI. Look there! How pale he grows! Now! Death is coming Round his heart: his eyes grow dim and fixed.

ARMGART [_lifts up one of her children_].

See, children, how a miscreant departs!

RUDOLPH. Out on you, crazy hags! Have ye no touch Of feeling in you, that ye feast your eyes On such an object? Help me, lend your hands!

Will no one help to pull the tort'ring arrow From his breast?

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The Life of Friedrich Schiller Part 17 summary

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