MEYER.
Hush! Hark!
BUHEL.
The forest chapel's matin bell
Chimes clearly o'er the lake from Switzerland.
VON F.
The air is clear, and bears the sound so far.
MELCH.
Go, you and you, and light some broken boughs,
Let's bid them welcome with a cheerful blaze.
[Two peasants exeunt.]
SEWA.
The moon shines fair to-night. Beneath its beams
The lake reposes, bright as burnish'd steel.
BUHEL.
They'll have an easy passage.
WINK. (pointing to the lake).
Ha! look there!
Do you see nothing?
MEYER.
Ay, indeed, I do!
A rainbow in the middle of the night.
MELCH.
Formed by the bright reflection of the moon!
VON F.
A sign most strange and wonderful, indeed!
Many there be, who ne'er have seen the like.
SEWA.
'Tis doubled, see, a paler one above!
BAUM.
A boat is gliding yonder right beneath it.
MELCH.
That must be Werner Stauffacher! I knew
The worthy patriot would not tarry long.
[Goes with Baumgarten towards the shore.]
MEYER.
The Uri men are like to be the last.
BUHEL.
They're forced to take a winding circuit through
The mountains; for the Viceroy's spies are out.
[In the meanwhile the two peasants have kindled a fire in the centre
of the stage.]
MELCH. (on the shore).
Who's there? The word?
STAUFF. (from below).
Friends of the country.
[All retire up the stage, towards the party landing from the boat.
Enter Stauffacher, Itel Reding, Hans auf der Mauer, Jorg im Hofe,
Conrad Hunn, Ulrich der Schmidt, Jost von Weiler, and three other
peasants, armed.
ALL.
Welcome!
[While the rest remain behind exchanging greetings, Melchthal comes
forward with Stauffacher.]
MELCH.
Oh, worthy Stauffacher, I've look'd but now
On him, who could not look on me again,
I've laid my hands upon his rayless eyes,
And on their vacant orbits sworn a vow
Of vengeance, only to be cool'd in blood.
STAUFF.
Speak not of vengeance. We are here, to meet
The threatened evil, not to avenge the past.
Now tell me what you've done, and what secured,
To aid the common cause in Unterwald.
How stand the peasantry disposed, and how
Yourself escaped the wiles of treachery?
MELCH.
Through the Surenen's fearful mountain chain,
Where dreary ice-fields stretch on every side,
And sound is none, save the hoarse vulture's cry,
I reach'd the Alpine pasture, where the herds
From Uri and from Engelberg resort,
