Look upon my boy, as though I guessed it!— Impossible! I do not guess thy meaning. Ges. On this condition only, will I spare His life and thine. Tell. Ges. Ferocious monster! make a father murder his own child! Dost thou consent? Tell. With his own hand! The hand I've led him when an infant by! My hands are free from blood, and have no gust I'll not murder my boy, for Gesler. Boy. You will not hit me, father. You'll be sure To hit the apple. Will you not save me, father? Tell. Speak not to me Let me not hear thy voice. Thou must be dumb; And so should all things be-Earth should be dumb The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it. Give me my bow and quiver. Ges. When all is ready, Sarnem, measure hence The distance—three hundred paces. Tell. Will he do it fairly? Ges. What is't to thee, fairly or not? Tell. (Sarcastically.) O, nothing, a little thing, A very little thing, I only shoot At my child! [Sarnem prepares to measure. Villain, stop! you measure against the sun. Ges. And what of that? What matter whether to or from the sun? Tell. I'd have it at my back. The sun should shine Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots; I will not shoot against the sun. Ges. Give him his way. [Sarnem paces and goes out. Tell. I should like to see the apple I must hit. Ges. (Picks out the smallest one.) There, take that. Tell. Ges. I know I have. Thy skill will be The greater if thou hittest it. Tell. (Sarcastically.) True-true! I did not think of that. I wonder I did not think of that. A larger one Had given me a chance to save my boy. Give me my bow. Let me see my quiver. Ges. [To an attendant.] Give him a single arrow. [Tell looks at the arrow and breaks it.] Tell. Let me see my quiver. It is not To shoot with at a dove, much less, a dove Ges. Show him the quiver. [Sarnem returns, and takes the apple and the boy to place them While this is doing, Tell conceals an arrow under his garment. He then selects another arrow.] Tell. Is the boy ready? Keep silence now, For Heaven's sake; and be my witnesses, That if his life's in peril from my hand, 'Tis only for the chance of saving it. For mercy's sake keep motionless and silent. [He aims and shoots in the direction of the boy. In a moment Sarnem enters with the apple on the arrow's point.] Sar. The boy is safe. Tell. [Raising his arms.] Thank Heaven! [As he raises his arms, the concealed arrow falls.] Ges. [Picking it up.] Unequalled archer! Why was this concealed? Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy. Gesler, the Austrian governor, ordered homage to be paid to his hat. William Tell, of Switzerland, for refusing thus to degrade himself, was compelled by the tyrant to shoot an arrow at an apple, placed on his own son's head, or else suffer, with his child, instant death. Fortunately, he hit the apple. 93. EXTRACT FROM DAMON AND PYTHIAS.-Shiel. DAMON, LUCULLUS, PROCLES, and PYTHIAS. [Damon alone.] Damon. Philistus, then, is president at last, And Dionysius has o'erswayed it? Well, It is what I expected:-there is now No public virtue left in Syracuse. What should be hoped from a degenerate, When highly-born and meanly-minded nobles [Shouts.] Ha! What shouts are these? 'Tis from the citadel Speak, Lucullus, what has befallen? Enter Lucullus. Lucullus. Have you heard the news? Da. What news? Luc. As through the streets I passed, the people Said that the citadel was in the hands Of Dionysius. Da. The citadel In Dionysius' hands? What dost thou tell me? How, wherefore, when? In Dionysius' hands! And quickly. Luc. It was said, that by rude force, Heading a troop of soldiers, he has taken Possession of the citadel, and seized The arms and treasure in't. [Exit. Da. I am thunder stricken! The citadel assaulted, and the armory In that fierce soldier's power! [Shouts.] Again! By all His standard waving over it, and they come, [Enter Procles and Soldiers.] Soldiers. For Dionysius! Ho! For Dionysius! Da. Silence!-Obstreperous traitors! Proc. But that I know 'twill gall thee, And Da. Patience, ye good gods! a moment's patience, That these too ready hands may not enforce The desperate precept of my rising heart Thou most contemptible and meanest tool Proc. Do you hear him, soldiers? First, for thy coward railings at myself, And since thou hast called our Dionysius tyrant, I brand thee for a liar, and a traitor! Da. Audacious slave! Proc. Upon him, soldiers, Hew him to pieces! [Enter Pythias, as they rush on Damon.] Pythias. Back, on your lives! Cowards, treacherous cowards, back, I say Do you know me? Look upon me; do you know This honest sword I brandish? You have seen it Among the ranks of Carthage; would you now Taste its shrewd coldness in your quaking selves? Da. False hearted cravens! We are but two-my Pythias, my halved heart- A foot, or raise an arm, or bend a bow, Pyth. Off! off! villains, off! Why, Procles,-art thou not ashamed-for I, Proc. For thy sake, Who art a warrior like ourselves, we spare him.- Soldiers, on, [Exit Procles and Soldiers. Pyth. (To Damon.) Art thou safe From these infuriate stabbers? Da. Thanks to thee, I am safe, my gallant soldier, and fast friend; Pyth. I have won leave to spend some interval How grew this rude broil up? Da. Things go on here |