For, shouldst thou miss, thy head shall pay the forfeit.
[All give signs of horror.]
TELL.
What monstrous thing, my lord, is this you ask?
What! from the head of mine own child!-No, no!
It cannot be, kind sir, you meant not that-
God, in His grace, forbid! You could not ask
A father seriously to do that thing!
GESSL.
Thou art to shoot an apple from his head!
I do desire-command it so.
TELL.
What, I!
Level my crossbow at the darling head
Of mine own child? No-rather let me die!
GESSL.
Or thou must shoot, or with thee dies the boy.
TELL.
Shall I become the murderer of my child!
You have no children, sir-you do not know
The tender throbbings of a father's heart.
GESSL.
How now, Tell, on a sudden so discreet?
I had been told thou wert a visionary,-
A wanderer from the paths of common men.
Thou lov'st the marvellous. So have I now
Cull'd out for thee a task of special daring.
Another man might pause and hesitate;-
Thou dashest at it, heart and soul, at once.
BERTH.
Oh, do not jest, my lord, with these poor souls!
See, how they tremble, and how pale they look,
So little used are they to hear thee jest.
GESSL.
Who tells thee that I jest?
[Grasping a branch above his head.]
Here is the apple.
Room there, I say! And let him take his distance-
Just eighty paces,-as the custom is,-
Not an inch more or less! It was his boast,
That at a hundred he could hit his man.
Now, archer, to your task, and look you miss not!
HAR.
Heavens! this grows serious-down, boy, on your knees,
And beg the governor to spare your life.
FURST (aside to Melchthal, who can scarcely restrain his indignation).
Command yourself,-be calm, I beg of you!
BERTHA (to the Governor).
Let this suffice you, sir! It is inhuman
To trifle with a father's anguish thus.
Although this wretched man had forfeited
Both life and limb for such a slight offence,
Already has he suffer'd tenfold death.
Send him away uninjured to his home;
He'll know thee well in future; and this hour
He and his children's children will remember.
GESSL.
Open a way there-quick! Why this delay?
Thy life is forfeited; I might dispatch thee,
And see, I graciously repose thy fate
Upon the skill of thine own practised hand.
No cause has he to say his doom is harsh,
Who's made the master of his destiny.
Thou boastest thine unerring aim. 'Tis well!
Now is the fitting time to show thy skill;
The mark is worthy and the prize is great.
To hit the bull's eye in the target;-that
Can many another do as well as thou;
But he, methinks, is master of his craft,
Who can at all times on his skill rely,
Nor lets his heart disturb or eye or hand.
FURST.
My lord, we bow to your authority;
But oh, let justice yield to mercy here.
Take half my property, nay, take it all,
But spare a father this unnatural doom!
WALT.
Grandfather, do not kneel to that bad man!
Say, where am I to stand? I do not fear;
My father strikes the bird upon the wing,
And will not miss now when 'twould harm his boy!
STAUFF.
Does the child's innocence not touch your heart?
ROSSEL.
Bethink you, sir, there is a God in heaven,
To whom you must account for all your deeds.
GESSL. (pointing to the boy).
Bind him to yonder lime tree!
WALT.
What! Bind me?
No, I will not be bound! I will be still.
Still as a lamb-nor even draw my breath!
But if you bind me, I can not be still.
Then I shall writhe and struggle with my bonds.
HAR.
But let your eyes at least be bandaged, boy!
WALT.
And why my eyes? No! Do you think I fear
An arrow from my father's hand? Not I!
I'll wait it firmly, nor so much as wink!
Quick, father, show them what thy bow can do.
He doubts thy skill-he thinks to ruin us.
Shoot then and hit, though but to spite the tyrant!
[He goes to the lime tree, and an apple is placed on his head.]
MELCH. (to the country people).
What! Is this outrage to be perpetrated
Before our very eyes? Where is our oath?
STAUFF.
Resist we cannot! Weapons we have none.
And see the wood of lances round us! See!
MELCH.
Oh! would to heaven that we had struck at once!
God pardon those who counsell'd the delay!
GESSL. (to Tell).
Now to your task! Men bear not arms for naught.
To carry deadly tools is dangerous,
And on the archer oft his shaft recoils.
This right, these haughty peasant churls assume,
Trenches upon their master's privileges:
None should be armed, but those who bear command.
It pleases you to carry bow and bolt;-
Well,-be it so. I will prescribe the mark.
TELL. (bends the bow, and fixes the arrow).
A lane there! Room!
STAUFF.
What, Tell? You would-no, no!
You shake-your hand's unsteady-your knees tremble.
TELL (letting the bow sink down).
There's something swims before mine eyes!
WOMEN.
Great Heaven!
TELL.
Release me from this shot! Here is my heart!
[Tears open his breast.]
Summon your troopers-let them strike me down!
GESSL.
'Tis not thy life I want-I want the shot,
Thy talent's universal! Nothing daunts thee!
The rudder thou canst handle like the bow!
No storms affright thee, when a life's at stake.
Now, saviour, help thyself,-thou savest all!
[Tell stands fearfully agitated by contending emotions, his hands
moving convulsively, and his eyes turning alternately to the Governor
and Heaven. Suddenly he takes a second arrow from his quiver, and
sticks it in his belt. The Governor notes all he does.]
WALT. (beneath the lime tree).
Shoot, father, shoot! fear not!
TELL.
It must be!
[Collects himself and levels the bow.]
RUD. (who all the while has been standing in a state of violent
excitement, and has with difficulty restrained himself, advances).
My lord, you will not urge this matter further;
You will not. It was surely but a test.
You've gained your object. Rigour push'd too far
Is sure to miss its aim, however good,
As snaps the bow that's all too straitly bent.
GESSL.
Peace, till your counsel's ask'd for!