The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Iii Part 127

You, Melchthal, here? D'ye bring us liberty?

Are all the Cantons from our tyrants freed?

MELCH.

We've swept them from the soil. Rejoice, my friend, Now, at this very moment, while we speak, There's not one tyrant left in Switzerland!

FuRST.

How did you get the forts into your power?

MELCH.

Rudenz it was who by a bold a.s.sault With manly valor mastered Sarnen's keep.

The Rossberg I had storm'd the night before.

But hear what chanced! Scarce had we driven the foe Forth from the keep, and given it to the flames, That now rose crackling upwards to the skies, When from the blaze rush'd Diethelm, Gessler's page, Exclaiming, "Lady Bertha will be burnt!"

FuRST.

Good heavens!

[_The beams of the scaffold are heard falling_.]

MELCH.

'Twas she herself. Here had she been By Gessler's orders secretly immured.

Up sprang Rudenz in frenzy. For even now The beams and ma.s.sive posts were cras.h.i.+ng down, And through the stifling smoke the piteous shrieks Of the unhappy lady.

FuRST.

Is she saved?

MELCH.

'Twas not a time to hesitate or pause!

Had he been but our baron, and no more, We should have been most chary of our lives; But he was our confederate, and Bertha Honor'd the people. So, without a thought, We risk'd the worst, and rush'd into the flames.

FuRST.

But is she saved?

MELCH.

She is. Rudenz and I Bore her between us from the blazing pile, With cras.h.i.+ng timbers toppling all around.

And when she had revived, the danger past, And raised her eyes to look upon the sun, The baron fell upon my breast; and then A silent vow between us two was sworn, A vow that, welded in yon furnace heat, Will last through ev'ry shock of time and fate.

FuRST.

Where is the Landenberg?

MELCHTHAL.

Across the Brunig.

'Twas not my fault he bore his sight away, He who had robb'd my father of his eyes!

He fled--I followed--overtook him soon, And dragg'd him to my father's feet. The sword Already quiver'd o'er the caitiff's head, When from the pity of the blind old man, He wrung the life which, craven-like, he begged.

He swore URPHEDE,[59] never to return He'll keep his oath, for he has felt our arm.

FuRST.

Oh, well for you, you have not stain'd with blood Our spotless victory!

CHILDREN (_running across the stage with fragments of_ _wood_).

We're free! we're free!

FuRST.

Oh! what a joyous scene! These children will Remember it when all their heads are gray.

[_Girls bring in the cap upon a pole. The whole stage is filled with people_.]

RUODI.

Here is the cap, to which we were to bow!

BAUM.

What shall we do with it? Do you decide!

FuRST.

Heavens! 'Twas beneath this cap my grandson stood!

SEVERAL VOICES.

Destroy the emblem of the tyrant's power!

Let it be burnt!

FuRST.

No. Rather be preserved; 'Twas once the instrument of despots--now 'Twill of our freedom be a lasting sign.

[_Peasants, men, women, and children, some standing, others sitting upon the beams of the shattered scaffold, all picturesquely grouped, in a large semicircle_.]

MELCH.

Thus now, my friends, with light and merry hearts, We stand upon the wreck of tyranny; And gloriously the work has been fulfilled Which we at Rootli pledged ourselves to do.

FuRST.