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STAUFFACHER. In Unterwalden yonder 'tis the same; And bloody has the retribution been. The imperial seneschal, the Wolfshot, who At Rossberg dwelt, longed for forbidden fruits Baumgarten's wife, that lives at Alzellen, He wished to overcome in shameful sort, On which the husband slew him with his axe. FURST. Oh, Heaven is just in all its judgments still! Baumgarten, say you? A most worthy man.
Till they have placed a sentinel ahead, Who pricks his ears whenever we approach, And gives alarm with clear and piercing pipe. Are you for home? KUONI. The Alp is grazed quite bare. WERNI. A safe return, my friend! KUONI. The same to you? Men come not always back from tracks like yours. RUODI. But who comes here, running at topmost speed? WERNI. I know the man; 'tis Baumgart of Alzellen.
KUONI. He is from Alzellen, and to guard his honor From touch of foulest shame, has slain the Wolfshot! The imperial seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg. The viceroy's troopers are upon his heels; He begs the boatman here to take him over, But he, in terror of the storm, refuses. RUODI. Well, there is Tell can steer as well as I. He'll be my judge, if it be possible.
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