BERTH.
And this it was, dear friend, that caused my grief,
To see thee blast this life's supremest bliss
With thine own hand. Ah! what had been my fate,
Had I been forced to follow some proud lord,
Some ruthless despot, to his gloomy keep!
Here are no keeps, here are no bastion'd walls
To part me from a people I can bless.
RUD.
Yet, how to free myself; to loose the coils
Which I have madly twined around my head?
BERTH.
Tear them asunder with a man's resolve.
Whate'er ensue, firm by thy people stand!
It is thy post by birth.
[Hunting horns are heard in the distance.]
But hark! The chase!
Farewell,—'tis needful we should part—away!
Fight for thy land; thou fightest for thy love.
One foe fills all our souls with dread; the blow
That makes one free, emancipates us all.
[Exeunt severally.]
SCENE III.
A meadow near Altdorf. Trees in the foreground. At the back of the stage a cap upon a pole. The prospect is bounded by the Bannberg, which is surmounted by a snow-capped mountain.
Friesshardt and Leuthold on guard
FRIESS.
We keep our watch in vain. Zounds! not a soul
Will pass, and do obeisance to the cap.
But yesterday the place swarm'd like a fair;
Now the old green looks like a desert, quite,
Since yonder scarecrow hung upon the pole.