MEYER.
Hush! Hark!
BUHEL.
The forest chapel's matin bell
Chimes clearly o'er the lake from Switzerland.
FLUE.
The air is clear, and bears the sound so far.
MELCHTHAL.
Go, you and you, and light some broken boughs,
Let's bid them welcome with a cheerful blaze.
[Two peasants exeunt.
SEWA.
The moon shines fair to-night. Beneath its beams
The lake reposes, bright as burnished steel.
BUHEL.
They'll have an easy passage.
WINKELRIED (pointing to the lake).
Ha! look there!
See you nothing?
MEYER.
What is it? Ay, indeed!
A rainbow in the middle of the night.
MELCHTHAL.
Formed by the bright reflection of the moon!