Till I sting mine own heart! (Aside.) There is no hope! Aur. One hope there is, worth all the rest-Revenge! The time is harass'd, poor, and discontent; Your spirit practised, keen, and desperate,- Cat. Yet, who has stirr'd? Aurelius, you paint the air With passion's pencil. Aur. Were my will a sword! Cat. Hear me, bold heart. The whole gross blood of Could not atone my wrongs! I'm soul-shrunk, sick, For Libya there to make companionship : Rather of bear and tiger, of the snake, The lion in his hunger,-than of man! Aur, I had a father once, who would have plunged You saw our entrance from the Gaulish war, Cat. My legion was in Spain. Aur. Rome was all eyes; the ancient totter'd forth The cripple propp'd his limbs beside the wall; The dying left his bed to look-and die. The way before us was a sea of heads; Cat. Those triumphs are but gewgaws. All the earth, I've done with life! Aur. Before that eve-one hundred senators, (Aurelius moves slowly towards the door.) Where are our veterans now? Look on these walls; I cannot turn their tissues into life. Where are our revenues-our chosen friends? Are we not beggars! I see no swords and I shake the state! Where have beggars friends? But these two hands? Must I not dig or starve? If 'tis our last;-it may be-let us sink CROLY. 190.-SCENE FROM WILLIAM TELL. Verner and Albert. Ver. Ан! Albert! What have you there? Alb. My bow and arrows, Verner. Ver. When will you use them like your father, boy? Alb. Sometime, I hope. Ver. You brag! There's not an archer In all Helvetia can compare with him. I Alb. But I'm his may be like him. To think I sometime son: and when I am a man, Verner, do I brag, may be like my If so, then is it he that teaches me; For, ever as I wonder at his skill, father? He calls me boy, and says I must do more Ver. May you be such A man as he-if heaven wills, better-I'll Not quarrel with its work; yet 'twill content me If you are only such a man. Alb. I'll show you How I can shoot. (Goes out to fix the mark.) Ver. Nestling as he is, he is the making of a bird Will own no cowering wing. Re-enter Albert. Alb. Now, Verner, look! (Shoots.) There's within An inch! Ver. O fy! it wants a hand. (Exit Verner.) Alb. A hand's An inch for me. I'll hit it yet. Now for it! (While Albert continues to shoot, Tell enters and watches him some time, in silence.) Tell. That's scarce a miss that comes so near the mark! Well aim'd, young archer! With what ease he bends The bow! To see those sinews, who'd believe Such strength did lodge in them? That little arm, His mother's palm can span, may help, anon, Living to see that day! What, Albert! Alb. Ah! My father! Tell. You raise the bow Too fast. (Albert continues shooting.) Bring it slowly to the eye.-You've miss'd. How often have you hit the mark to-day? Tell. You're not steady. I perceived You waver'd now. Stand firm. Let every limb Be braced as marble, and as motionless. (Albert shoots.) You've miss'd again! How would you fare, Right to the tyrant's heart! (Hits the mark.) Well done. my boy! Come here. How early were you up Alb. Before the sun. ? Tell. Ay, strive with him. He never lies abed When it is time to rise. Be like the sun. Alb. What you would have me like, I'll be like, As far as will to labour join'd can make me. Tell. Well said, my boy! Knelt you when you got up To-day? Alb. I did; and do so every day. Tell. I know you do! And think To whom you kneel? you, when you kneel Alb. To Him who made me, father. Alb. The name of Him who died For me and all men, that all men and I Tell. That's right. Remember that, my son: 'Tis more than friends or fortune; clothing, food; All things on earth; yea, life itself!—It is To live, when these are gone, where they are naught— With God! My son, remember that! Alb. I will. Tell. I'm glad you value what you're taught. That is the lesson of content, my son; He who finds which, has all-who misses, nothing. Alb. Content is a good thing. Tell. A thing, the good Alone can profit by. But go, Albert, Reach thy cap and wallet, and thy mountain staff. Don't keep me waiting. (Exit Albert.) (Tell paces the stage in thought.) Re-enter Albert. Alb. I am ready, father. Tell. (Taking Albert by the hand.) Now mark me The ice-field, or the hail flaw? Carest thou for And it doth burst around thee? Thou must travel All night. Alb. I'm ready; say all night again. Tell. The mountains are to cross, for thou must reach Mount Faigel by the dawn. Alb. Not sooner shall The dawn be there than I. Tell. Heaven speeding thee. Alb. Heaven speeding me. Tell. Show me thy staff. Art sure Of the point? I think 'tis loose. No stay! 'Twill do Caution is speed when danger's to be pass'd. Examine well the crevice. Do not trust the snow! "Tis well there is a moon to-night. You're sure of the track? Alb. Quite sure. Tell. The buskin of That leg's untied; stoop down and fasten it. You know the point where you must round the cliff? Tell. Thy belt is slack-draw it tight. In one of them you will find him. Eaglet of my heart! Farewell. (They embrace. Exit Albert.) When thou wast born, To walk these hills, and look up to my God, Its very storms. I have sat at midnight In my boat, when midway o'er the lake, The stars went out, and down the mountain gorge Blow on! This is the land of liberty! THE END. |