University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A Valley, Moonlight. Arnold and Peasantry enter R. H. and L. H. Arnold walks in front looking at them attentively.
Arn.
Not one, not one! I've look'd among ye for
A quailing eye, and find it not. 'Tis well!
The victory's half achiev'd, when the results not feared!
(He advances to one.)
Lend me thy buckler. I've heard thy grandsire say
He bore it at Mortgartem. That was a day
Will live in Switzerland's annals till her hills
Are levell'd with the plain. See how many a blow
This trusty friend hath borne, and yet thy grandsire
Liv'd to tell the part he bore in that great day!
Bring thou it back but with as many records
Of thy valour, thy country will not be
A niggard of her thanks.
(To William.)
Come here my boy. [Draws.]

This was my father's sword. Thou see'st how closely
It hath question'd and been answer'd. Thy sinews
Are more firm than those of my old arm,
I would not have it handless, give me thine.

(They exchange swords.)
Wil.
I take it father, and you shall find it with me,
When you require it back again, and sheathless
As you give it me. I owe our foes a debt
Which in its payment may this lustre dim,
But shall not stain it. I thank thee for the gift!

[A parly sounded.]
Arn.
Hark! hark! they mock us even in the field
For now their war trumps sound the notes of peace.
Enter Gesler, L. H.
Whom seek you sir?

Ges.
Arnold of Winkelried!

Arn.
Your search is ended, sir, for I am he.
What is the purport of your message?

Ges.
Peace!

Arn.
Most welcome is it if to justice join'd.
Speak on sir.

Ges.
Count Rudolph greets ye all
And will forego his much provok'd resentment
If now ye quit your hostile bearing.

Arn.
What if we refuse?

Ges.
The worst the law may warrant.

Arn.
We understand you, sir, the fire which kindles
The rooftree of one home will light up hundreds,
The sword which reeks in slaughter of one Swiss
Will cleanse its crimsomed surface in another.
Said I not rightly?

Ges.
You do sir.

Arn.
What say ye friends?
Surrender leaves us where the morning found us
The serfs of strangers, nay, the worst of slaves.
To sail in this our enterprize will bring
Death in exchange for abject servitude.
To struggle and to conquer leaves us free!
Which is your choice?

Omnes.
(R. H.)
Death or freedom!

Arn.
(C.)
You are answered, sir.

Ges.
(L. H.)
Your pardon, sir, a more defined reply
Is needed to my lord's proposal.

Arn.
(To one of the Peasants.)
Give me an arrow, one that is sure of flight.
(Aside to him)
Speed you to Martin bid him without delay
Bring up his friends. [Aloud.]
I do not like your shafts.
[Exit Peasant, R. H.
(To another.)
Pray you show me yours. [Aside.]
Find Walter of Uri
Tell him what you've observed. [Exit Peasant—Aloud.]
This will do. [Takes an Arrow.]

(Aside to him.)
Speed as you've hopes of life, we meet them at the dawn.

[Exit Peasant R. H.
Ges.
I wait your answer, sir.

Arn.
I'll task your patience
But a little longer. [To William.]
Give me your bow
[Aside to him.]
Conceal your force behind the mountain—
We'll drive the Austrians towards the close defile—
Away, and shun observance. [To Gesler.]
I claim your notice, sir. [Suiting the action to the word.]

The knock's on the string—the bow is bent—
The arrow's gone—'till now—the impulse spent
Which gave it motion—it falls to earth!
Such is the answer we to Rodolph send.
The will which guides our actions had its rest
Upon our heartstrings. It hath begun its course,
And as the arrow cannot be recall'd,
When once it hath commenc'd its airy flight,
Our purpose changes not—we die or conquer.

Ges.
Pause, ere you dismiss me; our numbers double yours,
Train'd to the ways of war, and arm'd as soldiers
Who have the keeping of a nation's glory.

Arn.
Were they ten times doubled we should reply the same,
For though our ranks are fill'd by husbandmen,
We have a cause which gives each lowly heart
The aspirations of a hero's soul—
A cause which justice sanctions and supports.

Ges.
Then be it so. I bid you now farewell,
With the assurance we shall meet again
Where blows will serve for language.

Arn.
Farewell, sir.
[Exit Gesler, L. H.
The sun! the sun is rising! Let its set
Find us more worthy of its glorious light.
Forth every sword! [All draw.]
See how they catch the beams
As though to light us to our blessed toil.
Away with every thought but that of victory!
Let your loud halloo serve the trumpet's voice!
Huzza for Switzerland, the land we love!

[Drums, Shouting, &c. Exeunt omnes, R. H.