Stran. 'Tis William Tell's—and that's his wife—Goodnight.
Emma. (Rushing between him and the door.) Thou stirr'st not hence until thy news be told!
Stran. My news! In sooth 'tis nothing thou would'st heed.
Emma. 'Tis something none should heed so well as I!
Stran. I must be gone,
Emma. Thou seest a tigress, friend,
Spoiled of her mate and young, and yearning for them.
Don't thwart her! Come, thy news! What fear'st thou, man?
What more hath she to dread, who reads thy looks,
And knows the most has come? Thy news! Is't bondage'?
Stran. It is.
Emma. Thank Heaven, it is not death! Of one—Or two?
Stran. Of two.
Emma. A father and a son,
Is't not?