The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Iii Part 132

TELL.

Yes, I am he. I hide the fact from no man.

MONK.

And you are Tell! Ah! it is G.o.d's own hand, That hath conducted me beneath your roof.

TELL (_examining him closely_).

You are no monk. Who are you?

MONK.

You have slain The governor, who did you wrong. I, too, Have slain a foe, who robb'd me of my rights.

He was no less your enemy than mine.

I've rid the land of him.

TELL (_drawing back_).

You are--oh, horror!

In--children, children--in, without a word, Go, my dear wife! Go! Go! Unhappy man, You should be--

HEDWIG.

Heav'ns, who is it?

TELL.

Do not ask.

Away! away! the children must not hear it.

Out of the house--away! You must not rest 'Neath the same roof with this unhappy man!

HEDWIG.

Alas! What is it? Come.

[_Exit with the children_.]

TELL (_to the_ MONK).

You are the Duke Of Austria--I know it. You have slain The Emperor, your uncle, and liege lord.

JOHN.

He robb'd me of my patrimony.

TELL.

How!

Slain him--your king, your uncle! And the earth Still bears you! And the sun still s.h.i.+nes on you!

JOHN.

Tell, hear me, ere you--

TELL.

Reeking with the blood Of him that was your Emperor, your kinsman, Dare you set foot within my spotless house, Dare to a honest man to show your face, And claim the rites of hospitality?

JOHN.

I hoped to find compa.s.sion at your hands.

You took, like me, revenge upon your foe!

TELL.

Unhappy man! Dare you confound the crime Of blood-imbued ambition with the act Forced on a father in mere self-defence?

Have you to s.h.i.+eld your children's darling heads, To guard your fireside's sanctuary--ward off The last, the direst doom from all you loved?

To Heaven I raise my unpolluted hands, To curse your act and you! I have avenged That holy nature which you have profaned.

I have no part with you. You murdered, I Have s.h.i.+elded all that was most dear to me.

JOHN.

You cast me off to comfortless despair!

TELL.

I shrink with horror while I talk with you.

Hence, on the dread career you have begun, Cease to pollute the home of innocence!

[JOHN _turns to depart._]

JOHN.

I cannot and I will not live this life!

TELL.

And yet my soul bleeds for you. Gracious Heaven, So young, of such a n.o.ble line, the grandson Of Rudolph, once my lord and emperor, An outcast--murderer--standing at my door, The poor man's door--a suppliant, in despair!

[_Covers his face_.]

JOHN.

If you have power to weep, oh let my fate Move your compa.s.sion--it is horrible!

I am--say, rather was--a prince. I might Have been most happy, had I only curb'd The impatience of my pa.s.sionate desires: But envy gnaw'd my heart--I saw the youth Of mine own cousin Leopold endow'd With honor, and enrich'd with broad domains, The while myself, of equal age with him, In abject slavish nonage was kept back.

TELL.