GESSLER (after a pause).
I hear, Tell, you're a master with the bow—
From every rival bear the palm away.
WALTER.
That's very truth, sir! At a hundred yards
He'll shoot an apple for you off the tree.
GESSLER.
Is that boy thine, Tell?
TELL.
Yes, my gracious lord.
GESSLER.
Hast any more of them?