Of Altorf, that looks life, yet neither breathes
Nor stirs. (Albert shoots) That's better!
See well the mark. Rivet your eye to it
There let it stick, fast as the arrow would,
Could you but send it there. (Albert shoots)
You've missed again! How would you fare,
Suppose a wolf should cross your path, and you
Alone, with but your bow, and only time
To fix a single arrow? 'Twould not do
To miss the wolf! You said the other day,