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GESSLER. Woman, hence! Give way, I say, or I will ride thee down. ARMGART. Well, do so; there! Here on the ground I lie, I and my children. Let the wretched orphans Be trodden by thy horse into the dust! It will not be the worst that thou hast done. HARRAS. Are you mad, woman? Many a day thou hast Trampled the emperor's lands beneath thy feet. Oh, I am but a woman!
GESSLER. Say what you please; I am the emperor's servant, And my first care must be to do his pleasure. He did not send me here to fawn and cringe And coax these boors into good humor. No! Obedience he must have. We soon shall see If king or peasant is to lord it here? ARMGART. Now is the moment! Now for my petition!
PFEIFFER OF LUCERNE. KUNZ OF GERSAU. JENNI, Fisherman's Son. SEPPI, Herdsman's Son. GERTRUDE, Stauffacher's Wife. HEDWIG, Wife of Tell, daughter of Furst. BERTHA OF BRUNECK, a rich heiress. ARMGART, | MECHTHILD, | Peasant women. WALTER, | Tell's sons. FRIESSHARDT, | Soldiers. RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, Gessler's master of the horse. JOHANNES PARRICIDA, Duke of Suabia. STUSSI, Overseer.
STUSSI. What is the matter? Tell me what has happened? ARMGART. The governor is shot, killed by an arrow! Who has been shot? The music continues. HARRAS. He's bleeding fast to death. Away, for help pursue the murderer! Unhappy man, is't thus that thou must die? Thou wouldst not heed the warnings that I gave thee! STUSSI. By heaven, his cheek is pale! His life ebbs fast.
Great projects are at work, and hatching now; The imperial house seeks to extend its power. Those vast designs of conquests, which the sire Has gloriously begun, the son will end. This petty nation is a stumbling-block One way or other it must be subjected. ARMMGART throws herself down before GESSLER. ARMGART. Mercy, lord governor! Oh, pardon, pardon!
ARMGART. A poor wild hay-man of the Rigiberg, Kind sir, who on the brow of the abyss, Mows down the grass from steep and craggy shelves, To which the very cattle dare not climb. By Heaven! a sad and miserable life! I prithee, give the wretched man his freedom. How great soever his offence may be, His horrid trade is punishment enough. You shall have justice. To the castle bring Your suit.
The streams are flooded by the heavy rains, And all the bridges have been swept away. The viceroy not arrived? STUSSI. And do you seek him? ARMGART. Alas, I do! STUSSI. But why thus place yourself Where you obstruct his passage down the pass? ARMGART. Here he cannot escape me. He must hear me. Make way, make way! My lord, the governor, Is coming down on horseback close behind me.
'Tis now too late for help, And to pursue the murderer were vain. New duties claim our care. Set on to Kuessnacht, And let us save that fortress for the king! For in an hour like this all ties of order, Fealty, and faith are scattered to the winds. No man's fidelity is to be trusted. ARMGART. Here come the brotherhood of mercy. Room! STUSSI. The victim's slain, and now the ravens stoop.
GESSLER. Why do you cross me on the public road? Stand back, I say. ARMGART. My husband lies in prison; My wretched orphans cry for bread. Have pity, Pity, my lord, upon our sore distress! HARRAS. Who are you, woman; and who is your husband?
In 1860 and 1861 she visited Florence with the view of preparing herself for her next work, Romola, a tale of the times of Savonarola, which appeared in 1863 in the Cornhill Magazine. Felix Holt the Radical followed in 1866. Miss E. now for a time abandoned novel-writing and took to poetry, and between 1868 and 1871 produced The Spanish Gipsy, Agatha, The Legend of Jubal, and Armgart.
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