The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Iii Part 85

WERNI (_from above_).

Is't he in yonder boat ye seek? Ride on, If you lay to, you may o'ertake him yet.

2D H.

Curse on you, he's escaped!

1ST H. (_to the shepherd and fisherman_).

You help'd him off, And you shall pay for it! Fall on their herds!

Down with the cottage! burn it! beat it down!

[_They rush off._]

SEPPI (_hurrying after them_).

Oh my poor lambs!

KUONI (_following him_).

Unhappy me, my herds!

WERNI.

The tyrants!

RUODI (_wringing his hands_).

Righteous Heaven! Oh, when will come Deliverance to this doom-devoted land?

[_Exeunt severally_.]

SCENE II

_A lime tree in front of_ STAUFFACHER's _house at Steinen, in Schwytz, upon the public road, near a bridge_.

WERNER STAUFFACHER, _and_ PFEIFFER, _of Lucerne, enter into conversation_.

PFEIFF.

Ay, ay, friend Stauffacher, as I have said, Swear not to Austria, if you can help it.

Hold by the Empire stoutly as of yore, And G.o.d preserve you in your ancient freedom!

[_Presses his hand warmly and is going_.]

STAUFF.

Wait till my mistress comes. Now do! You are My guest in Schwytz--I in Lucerne am yours.

PFEIFF.

Thanks! thanks! But I must reach Gersau today.

Whatever grievances your rulers' pride And grasping avarice may yet inflict, Bear them in patience--soon a change may come.

Another Emperor may mount the throne.

But Austria's once, and you are hers forever.

[_Exit_.]

[STAUFFACHER _sits down sorrowfully upon a bench under the lime tree. Gertrude, his wife, enters, and finds him in this posture. She places herself near him, and looks at him for some time in silence_.]

GERT.

So sad, my love! I scarcely know thee now.

For many a day in silence I have mark'd A moody sorrow furrowing thy brow.

Some silent grief is weighing on thy heart.

Trust it to me. I am thy faithful wife, And I demand my half of all thy cares.

[STAUFFACHER _gives her his hand and is silent_.]

Tell me what can oppress thy spirits thus?

Thy toil is blest--the world goes well with thee-- Our barns are full--our cattle, many a score; Our handsome team of well-fed horses, too, Brought from the mountain pastures safely home, To winter in their comfortable stalls.

There stands thy house--no n.o.bleman's more fair!

'Tis newly built with timber of the best, All grooved and fitted with the nicest skill; Its many glistening windows tell of comfort!

'Tis quarter'd o'er with scutcheons of all hues, And proverbs sage, which pa.s.sing travelers Linger to read and ponder o'er their meaning.

STAUFF.

The house is strongly built, and handsomely, But, ah! the ground on which we built it quakes.

GERT.

Tell me, dear Werner, what you mean by that?

STAUFF.

No later gone than yesterday, I sat Beneath this linden, thinking with delight, How fairly all was finished, when from Kussnacht The Viceroy and his men came riding by.

Before this house he halted in surprise: At once I rose, and, as beseemed his rank, Advanced respectfully to greet the lord To whom the Emperor delegates his power, As judge supreme within our Canton here.

"Who is the owner of this house?" he asked, With mischief in his thoughts, for well he knew.

With prompt decision, thus I answered him: "The Emperor, your grace--my lord and yours, And held by me in fief." On this he answered, "I am the Emperor's vice-regent here, And will not that each peasant churl should build At his own pleasure, bearing him as freely As though he were the master in the land.

I shall make bold to put a stop to this!"

So saying, he, with menaces, rode off, And left me musing with a heavy heart On the fell purpose that his words betray'd.

GERT.

My own dear lord and husband! Wilt thou take A word of honest counsel from thy wife?

I boast to be the n.o.ble Iberg's child, A man of wide experience. Many a time, As we sat spinning in the winter nights, My sisters and myself, the people's chiefs Were wont to gather round our father's hearth, To read the old imperial charters, and To hold sage converse on the country's weal.

Then heedfully I listened, marking well What now the wise man thought, the good man wished, And garner'd up their wisdom in my heart.

Hear then, and mark me well; for thou wilt see, I long have known the grief that weighs thee down.