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Updated: June 12, 2025
To one correspondent he wrote, on the 28th, "Most probably my health will force me to retire in April, for I am worn out with fatigue of body and mind," and his application was sent in on the 6th of the latter month, after news of the "Guillaume Tell's" capture.
Oh, you old reprobate! Pooh!" And he had passed on with a look of scorn, leaving Gessler to think over what he had said. And Gessler ever since had had a grudge against him, and was only waiting for a chance of paying him out. "Mark my words," said Tell's wife, Hedwig, when her husband told her about it after supper that night "mark my words, he will never forgive you."
"Feel the bump. If I hadn't happened to have a particularly hard head I don't know what might not have happened;" and he raised his fist and hit Friesshardt; but as Friesshardt was wearing a thick iron helmet the blow did not hurt him very much. But it had the effect of bringing the crowd to Tell's assistance.
Gotthard, and the Grimsel passes, spent a week in William Tell's country, prowling about the ruins of old castles and the sites of legendary battles, and finally settled down in Milan to feast my eyes on the pinnacles of its wondrous cathedral. But my failure to reach the top of Mont Blanc cast a perceptible shadow over everything I saw.
Tell's first idea was that one of the larger mountains in the neighbourhood had fallen on top of him. Then he thought that there must have been an earthquake. Then it gradually dawned upon him that he had been hit by a mere common soldier with a pike. Then he was angry. "Look here!" he began. "Look there!" said Friesshardt, pointing to the cap. "You've hurt my head very much," said Tell.
"I can guiss; an' it shanna happen again, gin I can help it." "Tell's wha did it, than." "I wonno say names." "He's ane o' them." "The foul thief tak him! "Thae loons are no to be borne wi' ony langer." And he caught Alec by the arm. "I didn't do it," persisted Alec. "Wha killed Rob Bruce's dog?" asked the sutor, squeezing Alec's arm to point the question.
He don't ever shut up his guide-book. He knows more about this lake than the fishes in it. Besides, they CALL it 'Tell's Chapel' you know that yourself. You ever been over here before?" "Yes." "I haven't. It's my first trip. But we've been all around Paris and everywhere. I'm to enter Harvard next year. Studying German all the time now. Can't enter till I know German. This book's Otto's grammar.
Her slender figure looked graceful in a gown of some soft kind of silk, flowered with faint blue and pink. Looking at her, you somehow imbibed the notion that her hair, eyes, complexion, and dress corresponded with her character. She was faintly coloured. Nothing about her was intense. A vague thought of this kind flitted through Mrs. Tell's brain at this moment.
In an instant more Gessler fell from his horse, pierced by Tell's fatal shaft, and breathed his last before the eyes of his terrified servants. On that spot, the chronicler concludes, was built a holy chapel, which is standing to this day. Such is the far-famed story of William Tell. How much truth and how much mere tradition there is in it, it is not easy to say.
Further on, she made us confide the car to Gotteland on the Axenstrasse, while we descended the path to Tell's chapel and did reverence to the hero's memory. On such a day as this must it have been that Tell leaped ashore from the boat, leaving Gessler to look after himself; for the blasts were shrieking down the lake, and the waves dashed their foam over the ledge where stands the chapel.
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