The Hakmesser[56] Is there, that's founder'd many a gallant ship. If they should fail to double that with skill, Their bark will go to pieces on the rocks That hide their jagged peaks below the lake. The best of pilots, boy, they have on board. If man could save them, Tell is just the man, But he is manacled both hand and foot.
[_Enter_ WILLIAM TELL, _with his cross-bow. He enters precipitately, looks wildly round, and testifies the most violent agitation. When he reaches the centre of the stage, he throws himself upon his knees, and stretches out his hands, first toward the earth, then toward Heaven_.]
See, father! A man on's knees, who can it be?
He clutches at the earth with both his hands, And looks as though he were beside himself.
What do I see? Come father, come and look!
Who is it? God in Heaven! What! William Tell! How came you hither? Speak, Tell!
Were you not In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains?
Were they not carrying you to Küssnacht, Tell?
Is't possible? But you! How are you here? How 'scaped you from your fetters and the storm?
By God's most gracious providence. Attend.
How I was seized and bound, And order'd by the governor to Küssnacht.
And how at Flüelen he embarked with you. All this we know. Say, how have you escaped?
I lay on deck, fast bound with cords, disarm'd, In utter hopelessness. I did not think Again to see the gladsome light of day, Nor the dear faces of my wife and boys, And eyed disconsolate the waste of waters.--
Then we put forth; the Viceroy, Rudolph der Harras, and their suite. My bow And quiver lay astern beside the helm; And just as we had reached the corner, near The little Axen,[57] Heaven ordain'd it so, That from the Gotthardt's gorge, a hurricane Swept down upon us with such headlong force That every oarsman's heart within him sank, And all on board look'd for a watery grave. Then heard I one of the attendant train, Turning to Gessler, in this wise accost him: "You see our danger, and your own, my lord, And that we hover on the verge of death. The boatmen there are powerless from fear, Nor are they confident what course to take;-- Now, here is Tell, a stout and fearless man, And knows to steer with more than common skill; How if we should avail ourselves of him In this emergency?" The Viceroy then Address'd me thus: "If thou wilt undertake To bring us through this tempest safely, Tell, I might consent to free thee from thy bonds." I answer'd, "Yes, my lord; so help me God, I'll see what can be done." On this they loosed The cords that bound me, and I took my place Beside the helm, and steered as best I could, Yet ever eyed my shooting gear askance, And kept a watchful eye upon the shore, To find some point where I might leap to land: And when I had descried a shelving crag, That jutted, smooth atop into the lake--