University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

—The Mountains.
Alarom. Drums, Trumpets, &c. Enter William and Hertman, U. E. R. H. fighting.
Hert.
Spare my life, and I will give you gold
More than my armour weighs.

Wil,
I prize thy word
As highly as thy gold, and both at nothing.

Hert.
I pledge it by honour! My name is
Hertman!

Wil.
Hertman! Devil! I would not sell
Thy life, if every drop thy blacken'd heart gives out
Were by a ruby, priceless as the sun,
To be redeemed! My wife! my wife was priceless.

[They fight off, R. H. Drums and Trumpets.
Enter Bertha, 3 E. L. H. watching the conflict.
Ber.
Brave hearts! brave hearts! how breathlessly they move,
And yet how firmly. That is my father's form
Hurrying thus to and fro! Now they pause! [A shout.]

That was a noisy greeting, well answer'd
By a cloud of arrows. Brave hearts, 'tis vain!
They rattle on their steel but do not scathe—
The iron forest moves towards them—they close!
Oh God! how fast they fall! Mercy! they fly!
Oh, that I were a man to shame them! 'Tis well!
My father strikes the foremost recreant down,
But they press by him. In vain he strives to stay
Their flight—they bear him onward with them!
I know his mighty heart is now nigh bursting.
They are not worthy freedom who could fly
So soon before their enslavers! [Shouts and drum.]


[Exit behind the rock, U. E. L. H.
Enter Arnold, 3 E. L. H. forced on by Peasantry. His sword broken.
Arn.
Oh, miserable show of manhood! Fly on,
But herd not more with men! Go seek the hare
And chamois they are most fit to be your comrades!
What has so scar'd ye? Ye'd wear the iron
Of their weapons were it beat into an edgeless chain,
But dare not face them now, lest ye should bleed!

Mar.
We fear not equal conflict, but their spears
Are charmed—we cannot beat them down.

Arn.
Methinks if they were straws and tipp'd with pins,
So that they drew blood, ye dare not face them! [Trumpet.]

Oh, look ye look ye! from what things ye fly!
A troop of women! for the little mound
They've climb'd hath well nigh drain'd them of their breath,
And yet these pamper'd things have power to scare
Helvetia's sons from Freedom's glorious feast!

Wal.
Arnold, beat down their spears, and we will earn
More of your praise than now we have your censure!

Arn.
Ye fear their spears! Beheld, I am unarm'd,
And yet all naked as I am, I will not move
One backward step from where I take my stand!
Our word be “Onward!” Let the dastard fly—
Not to his home, for that will be accurs'd—
Not to the hills, for they are for the free—
Not to our plains, for where his foot doth fall
The grass will wither ne'er to spring again—
But to the desert, where nothing of life
Is found to hold communion with the slave!
[Drums and Trumpets.
They come! now let them find a foeman's greeting—
The rude embrace of undissembling hate!

[The Austrians enter R. H. in compact order, led by Hertman and Rudolph. The Swiss shout and advance cautiously towards them, Arnold encouraging them by his gestures. He rushes towards the Austrians, and spreading out his arms, seizes a number of their Spears and falls upon their points, exclaiming, “Charge, for Helvetia! charge!” The Peasants rush through the openings thus made, and at length force the enemy off. Arnold is discovered supported in the centre of the Stage.]
Enter Bertha, U. E. L. H.
Ber.
My father! [Runs to him.]


Arn.
This is no time for tears! Pray,
Bertha! pray my death be not in vain!

Ber.
Death! no, no! thou art not dying, father!
There is no prize that is worth half the ransom.

Arn.
Yes! yes! a fellow's freedom! Give me thine hand.
I've won to-day the best of requiems—
The good man's praise!
Enter Martin, R. H.
[To Martin.]
How speed's the day?

Mar.
Well, good Arnold! for when I left the field
The knights were turning from our friends.

Arn.
Then, God, I thank thee, and but ask for life
To hear the cause has triumph'd!
Enter Albert, with the Standard of Austria, Peasantry shouting, bringing in Rudolph and others wounded.
My pray'r is answer'd!
[To Rud.]
You see how calmly an old man can die,
When 'tis for liberty! Friends, let this day
Be memorial in your hearts; that should a tyrant
Again attempt to chain ye, ye may know
The way to check his power! Tell! I come!

[Chorus repeated very piano. The Curtain descends.