The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Iii Part 115

Hark! How the wind whistles, and the whirlpool roars, I never saw a storm so fierce as this!

FISHER.

To level at the head of his own child!

Never had father such command before.

And shall not nature, rising in wild wrath, Revolt against the deed? I should not marvel, Though to the lake these rocks should bow their heads, Though yonder pinnacles, yon towers of ice, That, since creation's dawn, have known no thaw, Should, from their lofty summits, melt away Though yonder mountains, yon primeval cliffs, Should topple down, and a new deluge whelm Beneath its waves all living men's abodes!

[_Bells heard_.]

BOY.

Hark, they are ringing on the mountain, yonder!

They surely see some vessel in distress.

And toll the bell that we may pray for it.

[_Ascends a rock_.]

FISHER.

Woe to the bark that now pursues its course, Rock'd in the cradle of these storm-tost waves!

Nor helm nor steersman here can aught avail; The storm is master. Man is like a ball, Toss'd 'twixt the winds and billows. Far or near, No haven offers him its friendly shelter!

Without one ledge to grasp, the sheer smooth rocks Look down inhospitably on his despair, And only tender him their flinty b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

BOY (_calling from above_).

Father, a s.h.i.+p: from Fluelen bearing down.

FISHER.

Heaven pity the poor wretches! When the storm Is once entangled in this strait of ours, It rages like some savage beast of prey, Struggling against its cage's iron bars!

Howling, it seeks an outlet--all in vain; For the rocks hedge it round on every side, Walling the narrow gorge as high as Heaven.

[_He ascends a cliff_.]

BOY.

It is the Governor of Uri's s.h.i.+p; By its red p.o.o.p I know it, and the flag.

FISHER.

Judgments of Heaven! Yes, it is he himself, It is the Governor! Yonder he sails, And with him bears the burden of his crimes.

The avenger's arm has not been slow to strike!

Now over him he knows a mightier lord.

These waves yield no obedience to his voice.

These rocks bow not their heads before his cap.

Boy, do not pray; stay not the Judge's arm!

BOY.

I pray not for the Governor, I pray For Tell who's with him there on board the s.h.i.+p.

FISHER.

Alas, ye blind, unreasoning elements!

Must ye, in punis.h.i.+ng one guilty head, Destroy the vessel and the pilot too?

BOY.

See, see, they've clear'd the Buggisgrat;[56] but now The blast, rebounding from the Devil's Minster,[56]

Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg.[56]

I cannot see them now.

FISHERMAN.

The Hakmesser[56]

Is there, that's founder'd many a gallant s.h.i.+p.

If they should fail to double that with skill, Their bark will go to pieces on the rocks That hide their jagged peaks below the lake.

The best of pilots, boy, they have on board.

If man could save them, Tell is just the man, But he is manacled both hand and foot.

[_Enter_ WILLIAM TELL, _with his cross-bow. He enters precipitately, looks wildly round, and testifies the most violent agitation. When he reaches the centre of the stage, he throws himself upon his knees, and stretches out his hands, first toward the earth, then toward Heaven_.]

BOY (_observing him_).

See, father! A man on's knees, who can it be?

FISHER.

He clutches at the earth with both his hands, And looks as though he were beside himself.

BOY (_advancing_).

What do I see? Come father, come and look!

FISHERMAN (_approaches_).

Who is it? G.o.d in Heaven! What! William Tell!

How came you hither? Speak, Tell!

BOY.

Were you not In yonder s.h.i.+p, a prisoner, and in chains?

FISHER.

Were they not carrying you to Kussnacht, Tell?

TELL _(rising)._