Had you to shield your children's darling heads, To guard your fireside's sanctuary--ward off The last, the direst doom from all you loved?

To Heaven I raise my unpolluted hands, To curse your act and you! I have avenged That holy nature which you have profaned.

I have no part with you.You murdered, I

Have shielded all that was most dear to me.

JOHN.

You cast me off to comfortless despair!

TELL.

I shrink with horror while I talk with you.

Hence, on the dread career you have begun!

Cease to pollute the home of innocence!

[John turns to depart.]

JOHN.

I cannot and I will not live this life!

TELL.

And yet my soul bleeds for you.Gracious Heaven, So young, of such a noble line, the grandson Of Rudolph, once my lord and Emperor, An outcast--murderer--standing at my door, The poor man's door--a suppliant, in despair!

[Covers his face.]

JOHN.

If you have power to weep, oh let my fate Move your compassion--it is horrible!

I am--say, rather was--a prince.I might Have been most happy, had I only curb'd The impatience of my passionate desires:

But envy gnaw'd my heart--I saw the youth Of mine own cousin Leopold endow'd With honour, and enrich'd with broad domains, The while myself, of equal age with him, In abject slavish nonage was kept back.

TELL.

Unhappy man, your uncle knew you well, When from you land and subjects he withheld!

You, by your mad and desperate act have set A fearful seal upon his wise resolve.

Where are the bloody partners of your crime?

JOHN.

Where'er the avenging furies may have borne them;I have not seen them since the luckless deed.

TELL.

Know you the Empire's ban is out,--that you Are interdicted to your friends, and given An outlaw'd victim to your enemies!

JOHN.

Therefore I shun all public thoroughfares, And venture not to knock at any door--I turn my footsteps to the wilds, and through The mountains roam, a terror to myself!

From mine own self I shrink with horror back, If in a brook I see my ill-starr'd form!

If you have pity or a human heart--

[Falls down before him.]

TELL.

Stand up, stand up! I say.

JOHN.

Not till you give Your hand in promise of assistance to me.

TELL.

Can I assist you? Can a sinful man?

Yet get ye up--how black soe'er your crime--You are a man.I, too, am one.From Tell Shall no one part uncomforted.I will Do all that lies within my power.

JOHN (springs up and grasps him ardently by the hand).

Oh, Tell, You save me from the terrors of despair.

TELL.

Let go my hand! You must away.You can not Remain here undiscover'd, and, discover'd, You cannot count on succour.Which way, then, Would you be going? Where do you hope to find A place of rest?

JOHN.

Alas! I know not where.

TELL.

Hear, then, what Heaven unto my heart suggests.

You must to Italy,--to Saint Peter's City--There cast yourself at the Pope's feet,--confess Your guilt to him, and ease your laden soul!

JOHN.

Will he not to the avengers yield me up?

TELL.

Whate'er he does, accept it as from God.

JOHN.

But how am I to reach that unknown land?

I have no knowledge of the way, and dare not Attach myself to other travellers.

TELL.

I will describe the road, so mark me well!

You must ascend, keeping along the Reuss, Which from the mountains dashes wildly down.

JOHN (in alarm).

What! See the Reuss? The witness of my deed!

TELL.The road you take lies through the river's gorge, And many a cross proclaims where travellers Have been by avalanches done to death.

JOHN.

I have no fear for nature's terrors, so I can appease the torments of my soul.

TELL.

At every cross, kneel down and expiate Your crime with burning penitential tears--And if you 'scape the perils of the pass, And are not whelm'd beneath the drifted snows, That from the frozen peaks come sweeping down, You'll reach the bridge that's drench'd with drizzling spray.

Then if it give not way beneath your guilt, When you have left it safely in your rear, Before you frowns the gloomy Gate of Rocks, Where never sun did shine.Proceed through this, And you will reach a bright and gladsome vale.

Yet must you hurry on with hasty steps, You must not linger in the haunts of peace.

JOHN.

O, Rudolph, Rudolph, royal grandsire! Thus Thy grandson first sets foot within thy realms!

TELL.

Ascending still, you gain the Gotthardt's heights, Where are the tarns, the everlasting tarns, That from the streams of Heaven itself are fed, There to the German soil you bid farewell;And thence, with swift descent, another stream Leads you to Italy, your promised land.

[Ranz des Vaches sounded on Alp-horns is heard without.]

But I hear voices! Hence!

HEDW.(hurrying in).

Where art thou, Tell?

My father comes, and in exulting bands All the confederates approach.

DUKE JOHN (covering himself).

Woe's me! I dare not tarry 'mong these happy men!

TELL.

Go, dearest wife, and give this man to eat.

Spare not your bounty; for his road is long.

And one where shelter will be hard to find.

Quick--they approach!

HEDW.

Who is he?

TELL.

Do not ask!

And when he quits you, turn your eyes away, So that you do not see which way he goes.

[Duke John advances hastily towards Tell, but he beckons him aside and exit.When both have left the stage, the scene changes.]