![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.co.nz/books/content?id=SJcXAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA543&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Fill+high+the+cup+with+Samian+wine+!+Leave+battles+to+the+Turkish+hordes,+And+shed+the+blood+of+Scio%27s%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3BkwrYqIAUz-7o5cuU68yS2OjlJw&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=539,354,3,8)
Tell. What is 't to me ? A little thing, A very little thing – a yard or two Is nothing here or there — were it a wolf
I shot at ! Never mind.
Ges. Be thankful, slave, Our grace accords thee life on any terms.
Tell. I will be thankful, Gesler ! - Villain, stop! You measure to the sun.
Ges. And what of that? What matter whether to or from the sun !
Tell. I'd have it at my back - The sun should shine Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots. I cannot see to shoot against the sun I will not shoot against the san!
Ges. Give him his way! Thou hast cause to bless my mercy
Tell. I shall remember it. I'd like to see The apple I'm to shoot at.
Ges. Stay ! show me the basket ! there - Tell. You've picked the smallest one. Ges. I know I have.
Tell. 0! do you ? - But you see The color on 't is dark — I'd have it light, To see it better.
Ges. Take it as it is : Thy skill will be the greater if thou hit’st it. Tell. True
true! - I did not think of that - I wonder I did not think of that - Give me some chance To save my boy!-(Throws away the apple with all his force.) I will not murder him, If I can help it — for the honor of The form thou wearest, if all the heart is gone.
Ges. Well : choose thyself. Tell. Have I a friend among the lookers-on ? Ver. (Rushing forward.) Ilere, Tell.
Tell. I thank thee, Verner ! He is a friend runs out into a storm To shake a hand with us. I must be brief. When once the bow is bent, we cannot take The shot too soon.
Verner, whatever be The issue of this hour, the common cause Must not stand still. Let not to-morrow's sun Ser on the tyrant's banner! Verner ! Verner ! The boy! the boy ! - Thinkest thou he hath the courage To stand it?
Ver. Yes,
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.co.nz/books/content?id=SJcXAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA544&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Fill+high+the+cup+with+Samian+wine+!+Leave+battles+to+the+Turkish+hordes,+And+shed+the+blood+of+Scio%27s%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U24XYjxxJDveYjODs-XyMWR3wM1dA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=432,725,3,7)
Tell. Does he tremble ! Ver. No. Tell. Art sure ? Ver. I am. Tell. How looks he?
Ver. Clear and smilingly. If you doubt it — look yourself.
Tell. No To hear it is
Ver. He bears himself so much above his years Tell. I know !— I know. Ver. With constancy so modest !- Tell. I was sure he would
Ver. And looks with such relying love And reverence upon you
Tell. Man !- Map ! · Man! No more! Already I'm too much the father To act the man !- Verner, no more, my friend! I would be flint - flint — flint. Do n't make me fee. I'm not do not mind me ! - Take the boy And set him, Verner, with his back to me. Set him upon his knees - and place this apple Upon his head, so that the stem may front me, Thus, Verner; charge him to keep steady- tell him I'll hit the apple !
Verner, do all this More briefly than I tell it thee.
Ver. Come, Albert! (Leading him out.) Alb. May I not speak with him before I go? Ver. No. Alb. I would only kiss his hand. Ver. You must not. Alb. I must !- I cannot go from him without. Ver. It is his will you should.
All. His will is it? I am content then
Tell. My boy! (Holding out his arms to him.) Alb. My father! (Rushing into Tell's arms.)
Tell. If thou canst bear it, should not I ? My son - and keep in mind that I can shoot Go boy – be thou but steady, I will hit The apple — Go ! — God bless thee
-go. - My bow!-
(The bow is handed t him, Thou wilt not fail thy master, wilt thou ? thou Hast never failed him yet, old servant - No, I'm sure of thee — I know thy honesty,
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.co.nz/books/content?id=SJcXAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA544&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Fill+high+the+cup+with+Samian+wine+!+Leave+battles+to+the+Turkish+hordes,+And+shed+the+blood+of+Scio%27s%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U24XYjxxJDveYjODs-XyMWR3wM1dA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=963,885,3,14)
Thou art staunch staunch. — Let me see my quiver.
Ges. Give him a single arrow. Tell. Do you shoot ? Sol. I do.
Tell. Is it so you pick an arrow, friend? The point you see is bent; the feather jagged — (Breaks it.) That's all the use 't is fit for.
Ges. Let him have another.
Tell. Why 't is better than the first, But yet not good enough for such an aim As I'm to take — 'T is heavy in the shaft; I'll not shoot with it ! (Throws it away.) Let me see my quiver Bring it !- 'T is not one arrow in a dozen I'd take to shoot with at a dove, much less A dove like that.
Ges. It matters not. Show him the quiver.
T'ell. See if the boy is ready. Ver. He is.
(Tell here hrues an arrow under his vest.) Tell. I'm ready too ! Keep silent for Heaven's sake, and do not stir - and let me have Your prayers — your prayers — and be my
witnesses That if his life's in peril from my hand, 'Tis only for the chance of saving it. (To the people.)
Ges. Go on.
Tell. I will. O friends, for mercy's sake. keep motionless And silent. (Tell shoots a shout of exultation bursts from the crowd. Tell's head drops on his bosom ; he with difficulty supports himself upon his bow.) Ver. (Rushing in with Albert.) Thy boy is safe, no hair of
him is touched. Alb. Father, I'm safe -- Your Albert 's safe, dear father, Speak to me! Speak to me !
Ver. He cannot, boy! Alb. You grant him life? Ges. I do. Alb. And we are free ? Ges. You are. (Crossing angrily behind.) Alb. Thank heaven ! thank heaven!
Ver. Open his vest, And give him air. (Albert opens his father's vest, and the arrow drops. Tell starts —- fixes his eye on Albert, and clasps him to his breast.) Tell. My boy ! - My boy!
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.co.nz/books/content?id=SJcXAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA545&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Fill+high+the+cup+with+Samian+wine+!+Leave+battles+to+the+Turkish+hordes,+And+shed+the+blood+of+Scio%27s%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3c9QzmadnK0xUBd5soLG9fjBJ9iw&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=404,1087,3,8)
Ges. For what Hid
you that arrow in vour breast ? Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy!
Edw. Let me have no intruders; above all, Keep Warwick from my sight
(Enter Warwick.) W'ar. Behold him here; No welcome guest, it seems, unless I ask My lord of Suffolk's leave : there was a time When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain Admission here.
Edw. There was a time, perhaps, When Warwick more desired, and more deserved it.
War. Never! I've been a foolish, faithful slave; All my best years, the morning of my life, Have been devoted to your service. What Are now the fruits? Disgrace and infamy; My spotless name, which never yet the breath Of calumny had tainted, made the mock For foreign fools to carp at : but 't is fit, Who trust in princes should be thus rewarded.
Edw. I thought, my lord, I had full well repaid Your services with honors, wealth, and power Unlimited : thy all-directing hand Guided in secret every latent wheel Of government, and moved the whole machine : Warwick was all in all, and powerless Edward Stood like a cipher in the great account.
War. Who gave that cipher worth, and seated thee On England's throne? Thy undistinguished name Had rotted in the dust from whence it
sprang, And moldered in oblivion, had not Warwick Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore, And stamped it with a diadem. Thou knowest, This wretched country, doomed, perhaps, like Rome, To fall by its own self-destroying hand, Tossed for so many years in the rough sea Of civil discord, but for me had perished.
In that distressful hour, I seized the helm, Bade the rough waves subside in peace, and steered Your shattered vessel safe into the harbor. You may despise, perhaps, that useless aid Which you no longer want; but know, proud youth, He who forgets a friend, deserves a foe.
Edw. Know, too, reproach for benefits received Pays every debt, and cancels obligation.
War. Why, that indeed is frugal honesty, A thrifty, saving knowledge : when the debt Grows burdensome, and cannot be discharged, A sponge will wipe out all, and cost you nothing. Edw. When
you
have counted o'er the numerous train Of mighty gifts your bounty lavished on me, You may remember next the injuries Which I have done you : let me know them all, And I will make you ample satisfaction.
War. Thou canst not; thou hast rohbed me of a jewel It is not in thy power to restore. I was the first, shall future annals say, That broke the sacred bond of public trust And mutual confidence; ambassadors, In after times, mere instruments, perhaps, Of venal statesmen, - shall recall my name To witness that they want not an example, And plead my guilt to sanctify their own. Amidst the herd of mercenary slaves That haunt your court, could none be found but Warwick, To be the shameless herald of a lie ?
Edw. And wouldst thou turn the vile reproach on me? If I have broke my faith, and stained the name Of England, thank thy own pernicious counsels That urged me to it, and extorted from me A cold consent to what my heart abhorred.
War. I've been abused, insulted, and betrayed : My injured honor cries aloud for vengeance. Her wounds will never close !
Edw. These gusts of passion Will but inflame them. If I have been right Informed, my lord, besides these dangerous scars Of bleeding honor, you have other wounds, As deep, though not so fatal : - such, perhaps, As none but fair Elizabeth can cure.
War. Elizabeth ! Edw. Nay, start not: I have cause
« PreviousContinue » |