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ATTINGHAUSEN. Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see, The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear, And poured its subtle poison in thy heart. RUDENZ. Yes, I conceal it not. It doth offend My inmost soul to hear the stranger's gibes, That taunt us with the name of "Peasant Nobles."
He is my grandson, and is fatherless. ATTINGHAUSEN. And fatherless I leave you all, ay, all! Oh, wretched fate, that these old eyes should see My country's ruin, as they close in death. Must I attain the utmost verge of life, To feel my hopes go with me to the grave. Shall he depart 'mid grief and gloom like this? Shall not his parting moments be illumed By hope's delightful beams?
ATTINGHAUSEN. The sore displeasure of the king is resting Upon the land, and every true man's heart Is full of sadness for the grievous wrongs We suffer from our tyrants. Thou alone Art all unmoved amid the general grief.
Thus with light hearts we reached the Reuss valley near Attinghausen, and in the evening wandered on as far as Amsteg, and the next morning, in spite of our great fatigue, at once visited the Madran valley. There we climbed the Hufi glacier, whence we enjoyed a splendid view over an impressive panorama of mountains, bounded at this point by the Tody range.
We purchase liberty More cheaply far than bondage. RUDENZ. What can we, A shepherd race, against great Albert's hosts? ATTINGHAUSEN. Learn, foolish boy, to know this shepherd race! I know them, I have led them on in fight I saw them in the battle at Favenz. Austria will try, forsooth, to force on us A yoke we are determined not to bear! Oh, learn to feel from what a race thou'rt sprung!
And then the two friends took counsel together; and Walther bore witness how the venerable Lord of Attinghausen had said that these Bailiffs were no longer to be endured. What desolating wrath resistance would bring upon the Waldstätte they knew and measured, and swore that death was better than an unrighteous yoke.
When from Alp to Alp The beacon-fires throw up their flaming signs, And the proud castles of the tyrants fall, Into thy cottage shall the Switzer burst, Bear the glad tidings to thine ear, and o'er Thy darkened way shall Freedom's radiance pour. The Mansion of the BARON OF ATTINGHAUSEN. A Gothic hall, decorated with escutcheons and helmets.
It is wise and wholesome prudence, In times like these, when faction's all abroad, To own attachment to some mighty chief. The imperial crown's transferred from line to line, It has no memory for faithful service: But to secure the favor of these great Hereditary masters, were to sow Seed for a future harvest. ATTINGHAUSEN. Art so wise?
ATTINGHAUSEN. First let me share, After the ancient custom of our house, The morning-cup with these my faithful servants! Time was I stood myself in field and wood, With mine own eyes directing all their toil, Even as my banner led them in the fight, Now I am only fit to play the steward; And, if the genial sun come not to me, I can no longer seek it on the mountains.
It fits their humor well, to take their seats Amid the nobles on the Herrenbank; They'll have the Caesar for their lord, forsooth, That is to say, they'll have no lord at all. ATTINGHAUSEN. Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy! RUDENZ. You urged me to this answer. Hear me out. What, uncle, is the character you've stooped To fill contentedly through life?