But oh, what fate, my Gertrude, may be thine?
GERT.
None are so weak, but one last choice is left.
A spring from yonder bridge and I am free!
STAUFF. (embracing her).
Well may he fight for hearth and home, that clasps
A heart so rare as thine against his own!
What are the host of emperors to him?
Gertrude, farewell! I will to Uri straight.
There lives my worthy comrade, Walter Furst;
His thoughts and mine upon these times are one.
There, too, resides the noble Banneret
Of Attinghaus. High though of blood he be,
He loves the people, honours their old customs.
With both of these I will take counsel, how
To rid us bravely of our country's foe.
Farewell! and while I am away, bear thou
A watchful eye in management at home.
The pilgrim journeying to the house of God,
And holy friar, collecting for his cloister,
To these give liberally from purse and garner.
Stauffacher's house would not be hid. Right out
Upon the public way it stands, and offers
To all that pass a hospitable roof.
[While they are retiring, Tell enters with Baumgarten.]
TELL.
Now, then, you have no further need of me.
Enter yon house. 'Tis Werner Stauffacher's,
A man that is a father to distress.
See, there he is, himself! Come, follow me.
[They retire up. Scene changes.]
SCENE III.
A common near Altdorf. On an eminence in the background a castle in
progress of erection, and so far advanced that the outline of the
whole may be distinguished. The back part is finished: men are working
at the front. Scaffolding, on which the workmen are going up and down.
A slater is seen upon the highest part of the roof. All is bustle and
activity.
Taskmaster, Mason, Workmen and Labourers.
TASK. (with a stick, urging on the workmen).
Up, up!
You've rested long enough. To work!
The stones here! Now the mortar, and the lime!
And let his lordship see the work advanced,
When next he comes. These fellows crawl like snails!
[To two labourers, with loads.]
What! call ye that a load? Go, double it.
Is this the way ye earn your wages, laggards?
1ST W.
'Tis very hard that we must bear the stones,
To make a keep and dungeon for ourselves!
TASK.
What's that you mutter? 'Tis a worthless race,
For nothing fit but just to milk their cows,
And saunter idly up and down the hills.
OLD MAN (sinks down exhausted).
I can no more.
TASK. (shaking him).
Up, up, old man, to work!
1ST W.
Have you no bowels of compassion, thus
To press so hard upon a poor old man,
That scarce can drag his feeble limbs along?
MASTER MASON and WORKMEN.
Shame, shame upon you-shame! It cries to heaven.
TASK.
Mind your own business. I but do my duty.
1ST W.
Pray, master, what's to be the name of this
Same castle, when 'tis built?
TASK.
The Keep of Uri;
For by it we shall keep you in subjection.
WORK.
The Keep of Uri?
TASK.
