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William Tell
About This Book
"William Tell" is a drama written by Friedrich Schiller in 1804. The story focuses on the legendary Swiss marksman William Tell as part of the greater Swiss struggle for independence from the Habsburg Empire in the early 14th century.
Gioachino Rossini's four-act opera Guillaume Tell was written to a French adaptation of Schiller's play. William Tell s a folk hero of Switzerland. According to the legend, Tell was an expert marksman with the crossbow who assassinated Albrecht Gessler, a tyrannical reeve of the Austrian dukes of the House of Habsburg positioned in Altdorf, in the canton of Uri. Tell's defiance and tyrannicide encouraged the population to open rebellion and a pact against the foreign rulers with neighbouring Schwyz and Unterwalden, marking the foundation of the Swiss Confederacy. Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller (10 November 1759 – 9 May 1805) was a German poet, philosopher, physician, historian, and playwright. Translated by Theodore Martin
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ACT I
SCENE I.
The smile-dimpled lake woo'd to bathe in its deep,
A boy on its green shore had laid him to sleep;
Then heard he a melody
Floating along,
Sweet as the notes
Of an angel's song.
And as thrilling with pleasure he wakes from his rest,
The waters are rippling over his breast;
And a voice from the deep cries,
"With me thou must go,
I charm the young shepherd,
I lure him below."
Farewell, ye green meadows,
Farewell, sunny shore,
The herdsman must leave you,
The summer is o'er.
We go to the hills, but you'll see us again,
When the cuckoo calls, and the merry birds sing,
When the flowers bloom afresh in glade and in glen,
And the brooks sparkle bright in the sunshine of Spring.
Farewell, ye green meadows,
Farewell, sunny shore,
The herdsman must leave you,
The summer is o'er.
the Ranz des Vaches
On the heights peals the thunder, and trembles the bridge,
The huntsman bounds on by the dizzying ridge.
Undaunted he hies him
O'er ice-covered wild,
Where leaf never budded,
Nor Spring ever smiled;
And beneath him an ocean of mist, where his eye
No longer the dwellings of man can espy;
Through the parting clouds only
The earth can be seen,
Far down 'neath the vapour
The meadows of green.
Come, Jenni, bustle; get the boat on shore.
The grizzly Vale-King[*] comes, the Glaciers moan,
The Mytenstein[+] is drawing on his hood,
And from the Stormcleft chilly blows the wind;
The storm will burst before we know what's what.
to Brumen.
'Twill rain ere long; my sheep browse eagerly,
And Watcher there is scraping up the earth.
The fish are leaping, and the water-hen
Keeps diving up and down. A storm is brewing.
Look, Seppi, if the beasts be all in sight.
There goes brown Liesel, I can hear her bells.
Then all are safe; she ever ranges farthest.
You've a fine chime of bells there, master herdsman.
And likely cattle, too. Are they your own?
I'm not so rich. They are the noble lord's
Of Attinghaus, and told off to my care.
How gracefully yon heifer bears her ribbon!
Ay, well she knows she's leader of the herd,
And, take it from her, she'd refuse to feed.
You're joking now. A beast devoid of reasonâ
Easily said. But beasts have reason, too,â
And that we know, we chamois-hunters, well.
They never turn to feedâsagacious creatures!
Till they have placed a sentinel ahead,
Who pricks his ears whenever we approach,
And gives alarm with clear and piercing pipe.
Are you for home?
The Alp is grazed quite bare.
A safe return, my friend!
The same to you!
Men come not always back from tracks like yours.
But who comes here, running at topmost speed?
I know the man; 'tis Baumgart of Alzellen.
For God's sake, ferryman, your boat!
How now? Why all this haste?
Cast off! My life's at stake!
Set me across!
Why, what's the matter, friend?
Who are pursuing you? First tell us that.
Quick, quick, man, quick! they're close upon my heels!
It is the Viceroy's men are after me;
If they should overtake me, I am lost.
Why are the troopers in pursuit of you?
First make me safe and then I'll tell you all.
There's blood upon your garmentsâhow is this?
The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossbergâ
How! What! The Wolfshot?[*] Is it he pursues you?
native of Unterwalden, who attached himself to the House of
Austria, and was appointed Burvogt, or Seneschal, of the Castle of
Rossberg. He was killed by Baumgarten in the manner, and for the
cause, mentioned in the text.
He'll ne'er hurt man again; I've settled him.
Now, God forgive you, what is this you've done!
What every free man in my place had done.
Mine own good household right I have enforced
'Gainst him that would have wrong'd my wifeâmy honour.
How? Wronged you in your honour, did he so?
That he did not fulfil his foul desire,
Is due to God, and to my trusty axe.
And you have cleft his skull then with your axe?
O, tell us all! You've time enough, and more,
While he is getting out the boat there from the beach.
When I was in the forest felling timber,
My wife came running out in mortal fear.
"The Seneschal," she said, "was in my house,
Had ordered her to get a bath prepared,
And thereupon had ta'en unseemly freedoms,
From which she rid herself, and flew to me."
Arm'd as I was, I sought him, and my axe
Has given his bath a bloody benison.
And you did well; no man can blame the deed.
The tyrant! Now he has his just reward! We men of
Unterwald have owed it long.
The deed got wind, and now they're in pursuit.
Heavens! whilst we speak, the time is flying fast.
Quick, ferryman, and set the good man over.
Impossible! a storm is close at hand,
Wait till it pass! You must.
Almighty heavens!
I cannot wait; the least delay is death.
Push outâGod with you!
We should help our neighbours;
The like misfortune may betide us all.
The South-wind's up![*] See how the lake is rising!
I cannot steer against both wind and wave.
God so help you as now you pity me!
His life's at stake. Have pity on him, man!
He is a father: has a wife and children.
What! and have I not, then, a life to lose,
A wife and child at home as well as he?
See how the breakers foam, and toss, and whirl,
And the lake eddies up from all its depths!
Right gladly would I save the worthy man,
But 'tis impossible, as you must see.
Then must I fall into the tyrant's hands.
And with the shore of safety close in sight!
Yonder it lies! My eyes can see it clear,
My very voice can echo to its shores.
There is the boat to carry me across,
Yet must I lie here helpless and forlorn.
Look! who comes here?
'Tis Tell, ay, Tell, of Burglen.[*]
in 1522, remains on the spot formerly occupied by his house.
What man is he that here implores of aid?
He is from Alzellen, and to guard his honour
From touch of foulest shame, has slain the Wolfshot,
The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg.
The Viceroy's troopers are upon his heels;
He begs the ferryman to take him over,
But frightened at the storm he says he won't.
Well, there is Tell can steer as well as I.
He'll be my judge, if it be possible.
I should be mad to dare the desperate act.
The brave man thinks upon himself the last.
Put trust in God, and help him in his need!
Safe in the port, 'tis easy to advise.
Th...
Table of contents
- Cover
- William Tell
- Table of contents
- DRAMATIS PERSONAE
- ACT I
- ACT II
- ACT III
- ACT IV
- ACT V