MASON.
Hark how the bells above the forest toll!
RUODI.
The enemy's routed.
MASON.
And the forts are storm'd.
RUODI.
And we of Uri, do we still endure
Upon our native soil the tyrant's keep?
Are we the last to strike for liberty?
MASON.
Shall the yoke stand, that was to curb our necks?
Up! Tear it to the ground!
ALL.
Down, down with it!
RUODI.
Where is the Stier of Uri?
URI.
Here. What would ye?
RUODI.
Up to your tower, and wind us such a blast,
As shall resound afar, from peak to peak;
Rousing the echoes of each glen and hill,
To rally swiftly all the mountain men!
[Exit Stier of Uri—Enter Walter Furst.]