Alb. To HIM who made me, mother.
Emma. And in whose name?

Alb. The name of Him who died

For me and all men, that all men and I
Should live.

Emma. That's right!
Forget all things but that

Remember that, my son:
remember that!

'Tis more than friends or fortune; clothing, food; All things of earth; yea, life itself.

It is

To live when these are gone, where there are naught
With God! My son, remember that!

Alb. I will!

Emma. You have been early up, when I, that play'd The sluggard in comparison, am up

Full early; for the highest peaks alone,

As yet, behold the sun.

Now tell me what

You ought to think on when you see the sun

So shining on the peak?

Alb. That as the peak

Feels not the pleasant sun, or feels it least;

So they who highest stand in fortune's smile

Are gladden'd by it least, or not at all!

Emma. And what's the profit you should turn this to? Alb. Rather to place my good in what I have

Than think it worthless, wishing to have more:

For more is not more happiness, so oft

As less.

Emma. I'm glad you husband what you're taught.
That is the lesson of content, my son;

He who finds which, has all-who misses nothing.
Alb. Content is a good thing.

Emma. A thing, the good

Alone can profit by.

Alb. My father's good.

Emma. What say'st thou, boy?

Alb. I say my father's good.

Emma. Yes; he is good! what then?
Alb. I do not think

He is content-I'm sure he is not content;
Nor would I be content, were I a man,
And Gesler seated on the rock of Altorf!
A man may lack content and yet be good.
Emma. I did not say all good men found content.

I would be busy; leave me.

[Exit ALBERT.

Why should my heart sink! 'tis for this we rear them!
Cherish their tiny limbs; pine if a thorn

But mar their tender skin; gather them to us

Closer than miser hugs his bag of gold;

Bear more for them than slave, who makes his flesh
A casket for the rich purloined gem,

To send them forth into a wintry world,

To brave its flaws and tempests! They must go;
Far better, then, they go with hearty will!
Be that my consolation. Nestling as
He is, he is the making of a bird

Will own no cowering wing. 'Twas fine-'twas fine
To see my eaglet on the verge o' the nest,
Ruffling himself at sight of the big gulf
He feels anon he'll have the wing to soar.

[Exeunt. -KNOWLES.

SCENE GESLER.

Gesler. Alone, alone! and every step the mist
Thickens around me! On these mountain tracts
To lose one's way, they say is sometimes death.
What hoa! holloa!-No tongue replies to me!
What thunder hath the horror of this silence!
I dare not stop; the day, though not half run,
Is not less sure to end his course; and night,
Dreary when through the social haunts of men
Her solemn darkness walks, in such a place
As this, comes wrapped in most appalling fear!
I dare not stop, nor dare I yet proceed,
Begirt with hidden danger. If I take
This hand, it carries me still deeper into
The wild and savage solitudes I'd shun,
Where once to faint with hunger is to die:
If this, it leads me to the precipice,
Whose brink with fatal horror rivets him
That treads upon't, till, drunk with fear, he reels

Into the gaping void, and headlong down

Plunges to still more hideous death! Curs'd slaves!

To let me wander from them! [Thunder.] Hoa!-Holloa! My voice sounds weaker to mine ear; I've not

The strength to call I had, and through my limbs
Cold tremor runs, and sickening faintness seizes
On my heart! O, Heaven, have mercy! Do not see
The colour of the hands I lift to thee!

Look only on the strait wherein I stand,

And pity it!

Let me not sink! Uphold

Support me! Mercy! mercy!

Albert. I'll breathe

Enter ALBERT.

upon this level, if the wind

Will let me. Ha! a rock to shelter me!

Thanks to't. A man, and fainting! Courage, friend!
Courage! A stranger that has lost his way.

Take heart-take heart; you're safe. How feel you now? [Gives him drink from a flask.

Ges. Better.

Alb. You have lost your way upon the hill?
Ges. I have.

Alb. And whither would you go?

Ges. To Altorf.

Alb. I'll guide you thither.

Ges. You're a child.

Alb. I know

The way the track I've come is harder far

To find.

Ges. The track you've come! What mean you? Sure You have not been still farther in the mountains?

Alb. I've travelled from Mount Faigel.

Ges. No one with thee?

Alb. No one but God.

Ges. Do you not fear these storms?

Alb. God's in the storm.

Ges. And there are torrents, too,

That must be cross'd.

Alb. God's by the torrent, too.

Ges. You're but a child.

Alb. God will be with a child.

Ges. You're sure you know the way?

Alb. 'Tis but to keep

The side of yonder stream.

Ges. But guide me safe,

I'll give thee gold.

All. I'll guide thee safe without.

Ges. Here's earnest for thee. [Offers gold.] Here I'll

double that,

Yea, treble it, but let me see the gate

Of Altorf. Why do you refuse the gold?

Tak't.

Alb. No.

Ges. You shall.

Alb. I will not.

Ges. Why?
Alb. Because

I do not covet it; and, though I did,
It would be wrong to take it as the price
Of doing one a kindness.

Ges. Ha!-who taught

Thee that?

Alb. My father.

Ges. Does he live in Altorf?

Alb. No, in the mountains.

Ges. How! —a mountaineer?

He should become a tenant of the city;
He'd gain by't?

Alb. Not so much as he might lose by't.
Ges. What might he lose by't?
Alb. Liberty.

Ges. Indeed!

He also taught thee that?

Alb. He did.

Ges. His name?

Alb. You may be an enemy of his.
Ges. May be a friend.

Alb. May be; but should you be

An enemy

Although I would not tell you

My father's name, I'd guide you safe to Altorf.

Will

you follow me?

Z

Ges. Ne'er mind thy father's name:

What would it profit me to know't? Thy hand;
We are not enemies.

Alb. I never had

An enemy.

Ges. Lead on.

Alb. Advance your staff

As

you descend, and fix it well. Come on.

Ges. What, must we take that steep?

Alb. "Tis nothing. Come,

I'll go before-ne'er fear. Come on-come on! [Exeunt.

-KNOWLES.

SCENE-ALBERT AND GESLER AT THE GATE OF ALTORF.

All. You're at the gate of Altorf.

[Returning.

Ges. Tarry, boy!

Alb. I would be gone; I am waited for.

Ges. Come back!

Who waits for thee? Come, tell me, I am rich

And powerful, and can reward.

Alb. 'Tis close

On evening; I have far to go! I'm late.

Ges. Stay! I can punish, too.

Alb. I might have left you,

When on the hill I found you fainting, and

The mist around you; but I stopp'd and cheer'd you,

Till to yourself you came again. I offer'd

To guide you, when you could not find the way,

And I have brought you to the gate of Altorf.
Ges. Boy, do you know me?

Alb. No.

Ges. Why fear you, then,

To trust me with your father's name?—Speak.
Alb. Why

Do you desire to know it?

Ges. You have served me,

And I would thank him, if I chanced to pass

His dwelling.

Alb. "Twould not please him that a service So trifling should be made so much of!

Ges. Trifling:

You've saved my life!