Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805). Wilhelm Tell.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Act IV
Scene IK
Kunz.I saw it with these eyes! Believe me, friend,
It happen’d all precisely as I’ve said.
The best man in the land, the bravest arm,
Had we for liberty to strike a blow!
They were about to go on board, as I
Started from Flüelen; but the gathering storm,
That drove me here to land so suddenly,
May well have hindered them from setting out.
O, trust me, Gessler will entomb him, where
He never more shall see the light of day;
For Tell once free, the tyrant well might dread
The just revenge of one so deeply wrong’d.
They say, is lying at the point of death.
He was the only man that dared to raise
His voice in favour of the people’s rights.
I’ll go and seek out quarters in the village.
There’ not a chance of getting off to-day.[Exit
Now, tyranny, exalt thy brazen front,—
Throw every shame aside! Truth’s voice is dumb!
The eye that watch’d for us, in darkness closed,
The arm that should have stuck thee down, in chains!
This is no weather to be out in, father!
Burst, ye swollen clouds! Ye cataracts of Heaven
Descend, and drown the country! In the germ
Destroy the generations yet unborn!
Ye savage elements, be lords of all!
Return, ye bears: ye ancient wolves, return
To this wide howling waste! The land is yours.
Who would live here, when liberty is gone?
I never saw a storm so fierce as this!
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.
They surely see some vessel in distress.
And toll the bell that we may pray for it.[Ascends a rock.
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 breasts.
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.
By its red poop I know it, and the flag.
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!
For Tell, who’s with him there on board the ship.
Must ye, in punishing one guilty head,
Destroy the vessel and the pilot too?
The blast, rebounding from the Devil’s Minster,
Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg.
I cannot see them now.
Is there, that’s founder’d many a gallant ship.
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 W
And looks as though he were beside himself.
How came you hither? Speak, Tell!
In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains?
How ’scaped you from your fetters and the storm?
And order’d by the governor to Küssnacht.
All this we know. Say, how have you escaped?
In utter hopelessness. I did not think
Again to see the gladsome light of day,
Nor the dear faces of my wife and boys,
And eyed disconsolate the waste of waters.—
Rudolph der Harras, and their suite. My bow
And quiver lay astern beside the helm;
And just as we had reached the corner, near
The little Axen, Heaven ordain’d it so,
That from the Gotthardt’s gorge, a hurricane
Swept down upon us with such headlong force,
That every oarsman’s heart within him sank,
And all on board look’d for a watery grave.
Then heard I one of the attendant train,
Turning to Gessler, in this wise accost him:
“You see our danger, and your own, my lord,
And that we hover on the verge of death.
The boatmen there are powerless from fear,
Nor are they confident what course to take;—
Now, here is Tell, a stout and fearless man,
And knows to steer with more than common skill,
How if we should avail ourselves of him
In this emergency?” The Viceroy then
Address’d me thus: “If thou wilt undertake
To bring us through this tempest safely, Tell,
I might consent to free thee from thy bonds.”
I answer’d, “Yes, my lord; so help me God,
I’ll see what can be done.” On this they loosed
The cords that bound me, and I took my place
Beside the helm, and steered as best I could,
Yet ever eyed my shooting gear askance,
And kept a watchful eye upon the shore,
To find some point where I might leap to land;
And when I had descried a shelving crag,
That jutted, smooth atop, into the lake—
So steep it looks, I never could have dreamt
That from a boat a man could leap to it.
Until we came before the shelving ledge.
For there, I said, the danger will be past!
Stoutly they pull’d, and soon we near’d the point;
One prayer to God for His assisting grace,
And, straining every muscle, I brought round
The vessel’s stern close to the rocky wall;
Then snatching up my weapons, with a bound
I swung myself upon the flattened shelf,
And with my feet thrust off, with all my might,
The puny bark into the watery hell.
There left it drift about, as Heaven ordains!
Thus am I here, deliver’d from the might
Of the dread storm, and man’s more dreadful still.
A miracle in thy behalf! I scarce
Can credit my own eyes. But tell me, now,
Whither you purpose to betake yourself?
For you will be in peril, should perchance
The Viceroy ’scape this tempest with his life.
At Brunnen he proposed to disembark,
And, crossing Schwytz, convey me to his castle.
Not twice will Heaven release you from his grasp.
But there’s a nearer road, and more retired,
That goes by Lowerz, which my boy can show you.
Did not you also take the oath at Rootli?
I heard your name, methinks.
And took the oath of the confederacy.
My wife is anxious at my absence—tell her
That I am free, and in secure concealment.
Who took the oath with you upon the Rootli;
Bid them be resolute, and strong of heart,—
For Tell is free and master of his arm;
They shall hear further news of me ere long.
Whate’er he has resolved, he’ll execute.[Exit.