They"re forced to take a winding circuit through The mountains; for the viceroy"s spies are out.

[In the meanwhile the two peasants have kindled a fire in the centre of the stage.

MELCHTHAL (on the sh.o.r.e).

Who"s there? The word?

STAUFFACHER (from below).

Friends of the country.

[All retire up the stage, towards the party landing from the boat.

Enter STAUFFACHER, ITEL, REDING, HANS AUF DER MAUER, JORG IM HOPE, CONRAD HUNN, ULRICH DER SCHMIDT, JOST VON WEILER, and three other peasants, armed.

ALL.

Welcome!

[While the rest remain behind exchanging greetings, MELCHTHAL comes forward with STAUFFACHER.

MELCHTHAL.

Oh, worthy Stauffacher, I"ve looked but now On him, who could not look on me again.

I"ve laid my hands upon his rayless eyes, And on their vacant orbits sworn a vow Of vengeance, only to be cooled in blood.

STAUFFACHER.

Speak not of vengeance. We are here to meet The threatened evil, not to avenge the past.

Now tell me what you"ve done, and what secured, To aid the common cause in Unterwald.

How stands the peasantry disposed, and how Yourself escaped the wiles of treachery?

MELCHTHAL.

Through the Surenen"s fearful mountain chain, Where dreary ice-fields stretch on every side, And sound is none, save the hoa.r.s.e vulture"s cry, I reached the Alpine pasture, where the herds From Uri and from Engelberg resort, And turn their cattle forth to graze in common.

Still as I went along, I slaked my thirst With the coa.r.s.e oozings of the lofty glacier, That through the crevices come foaming down, And turned to rest me in the herdsman"s cots, [15]

Where I was host and guest, until I gained The cheerful homes and social haunts of men.

Already through these distant vales had spread The rumor of this last atrocity; And wheresoe"er I went, at every door, Kind words and gentle looks were there to greet me.

I found these simple spirits all in arms Against our rulers" tyrannous encroachments.

For as their Alps through each succeeding year Yield the same roots,--their streams flow ever on In the same channels,--nay, the clouds and winds The selfsame course unalterably pursue, So have old customs there, from sire to son, Been handed down, unchanging and unchanged; Nor will they brook to swerve or turn aside From the fixed, even tenor of their life.

With grasp of their hard hands they welcomed me-- Took from the walls their rusty falchions down-- And from their eyes the soul of valor flashed With joyful l.u.s.tre, as I spoke those names, Sacred to every peasant in the mountains, Your own and Walter Fuerst"s. Whate"er your voice Should dictate as the right they swore to do; And you they swore to follow e"en to death.

So sped I on from house to house, secure In the guest"s sacred privilege--and when I reached at last the valley of my home, Where dwell my kinsmen, scattered far and near-- And when I found my father stripped and blind, Upon the stranger"s straw, fed by the alms Of charity----

STAUFFACHER.

Great heaven!

MELCHTHAL.

Yet wept I not!

No--not in weak and unavailing tears Spent I the force of my fierce, burning anguish; Deep in my bosom, like some precious treasure, I locked it fast, and thought on deeds alone.

Through every winding of the hills I crept-- No valley so remote but I explored it; Nay, even at the glacier"s ice-clad base, I sought and found the homes of living men; And still, where"er my wandering footsteps turned, The self-same hatred of these tyrants met me.

For even there, at vegetation"s verge, Where the numbed earth is barren of all fruits, There grasping hands had been stretched forth for plunder.

Into the hearts of all this honest race, The story of my wrongs struck deep, and now They to a man are ours; both heart and hand.

Great things, indeed, you"ve wrought in little time.

MELCHTHAL.

I did still more than this. The fortresses, Rossberg and Sarnen, are the country"s dread; For from behind their rocky walls the foe Swoops, as the eagle from his eyrie, down, And, safe himself, spreads havoc o"er the land.

With my own eyes I wished to weigh its strength, So went to Sarnen, and explored the castle.

STAUFFACHER.

How! Risk thyself even in the tiger"s den?

MELCHTHAL.

Disguised in pilgrim"s weeds I entered it; I saw the viceroy feasting at his board-- Judge if I"m master of myself or no!

I saw the tyrant, and I slew him not!

STAUFFACHER.

Fortune, indeed, has smiled upon your boldness.

[Meanwhile the others have arrived and join MELCHTHAL and STAUFFACHER.

Yet tell me now, I pray, who are the friends, The worthy men, who came along with you?

Make me acquainted with them, that we may Speak frankly, man to man, and heart to heart.

MEYER.

In the three Cantons, who, sir, knows not you?

Meyer of Sarnen is my name; and this Is Struth of Winkelried, my sister"s son.

STAUFFACHER.

No unknown name. A Winkelried it was Who slew the dragoon in the fen at Weiler, And lost his life in the encounter, too.

WINKELRIED.

That, Master Stauffacher, was my grandfather.

MELCHTHAL (pointing to two peasants).

These two are men belonging to the convent Of Engelberg, and live behind the forest.

You"ll not think ill of them, because they"re serfs, And sit not free upon the soil, like us.

They love the land, and bear a good repute.

STAUFFACHER (to them).

Give me your hands. He has good cause for thanks, That unto no man owes his body"s service.

But worth is worth, no matter where "tis found.

HUNN.

That is Herr Reding, sir, our old Landamman.

MEYER.

I know him well. There is a suit between us, About a piece of ancient heritage.

Herr Reding, we are enemies in court, Here we are one.

[Shakes his hand.

STAUFFACHER.

That"s well and bravely said.

WINKELRIED.

Listen! They come. Hark to the horn of Uri!