Must ye, in punishing one guilty head,
Destroy the vessel and the pilot too?
BOY.
See, see, they've clear'd the Buggisgrat;[*] but now
The blast, rebounding from the Devil's Minster,[*]
Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg.[*]
I cannot see them now.
FISHER.
The Hakmesser[*]
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.
[*] Rocks on the shore of the Lake of Lucerne.
[Enter William Tell, with his cross-bow. He enters precipitately,
looks wildly round, and testifies the most violent agitation. When he
reaches the centre of the stage, he throws himself upon his knees, and
stretches out his hands, first towards the earth, then towards
Heaven.]
BOY (observing him).
See, father! A man on's knees; who can it be?
FISHER.
He clutches at the earth with both his hands,
And looks as though he were beside himself.
Boy (advancing).
What do I see? Come father, come and look!
FISHER. (approaches).
Who is it? God in Heaven! What! Wilhelm Tell!
How came you hither? Speak, Tell!
BOY.
Were you not
In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains?
FISHER.
Were they not carrying you to Kussnacht, Tell?
TELL (rising).
I am released.
FISHER. and BOY.
Released, oh miracle!
BOY.
Whence came you here?
TELL.
From yonder vessel!
FISHER.
What?
BOY.
Where is the Viceroy?
TELL.
Drifting on the waves.
FISHER.
Is't possible? But you! How are you here?
How 'scaped you from your fetters and the storm?
TELL.
By God's most gracious providence. Attend.
FISHER. And BOY.
Say on, say on!
TELL.
You know what passed at Altdorf.
FISHER.
I do-say on!
TELL.
How I was seized and bound,
And order'd by the governor to Kussnacht.
FISHER.
And how at Fluelen he embarked with you.
All this we know. Say, how have you escaped?
TELL.
I lay on deck, fast bound with cords, disarm'd,
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.-
