is lips! His sleep is very calm,
And on his features plays a placid smile.

[BAUMGARTEN goes to the door and speaks with some one.

FURST.
Who's there?

BAUGMARTEN (returning).
Tell's wife, your daughter; she insists
That she must speak with you, and see her boy.

[WALTER TELL rises.

FURST.
I who need comfort--can I comfort her?
Does every sorrow centre on my head?

HEDWIG (forcing her way in).
Where is my child? Unhand me! I must see him.

STAUFFACHER.
Be calm! Reflect you're in the house of death!

HEDWIG (falling upon her boy's neck).
My Walter! Oh, he yet is mine!

WALTER.
Dear mother!

HEDWIG.
And is it surely so? Art thou unhurt?

[Gazing at him with anxious tenderness.

And is it possible he aimed at thee?
How could he do it? Oh, he has no heart--
And he could wing an arrow at his child!

FURST.
His soul was racked with anguish when he did it.
No choice was left him, but to shoot or die!

HEDWIG.
Oh, if he had a father's heart, he would
Have sooner perished by a thousand deaths!

STAUFFACHER.
You should be grateful for God's gracious care,
That ordered things so well.

HEDWIG.
Can I forget
What might have been the issue. God of heaven!
Were I to live for centuries, I still
Should see my boy tied up,--his father's mark,
And still the shaft would quiver in my heart!

MELCHTHAL.
You know not how the viceroy taunted him!

HEDWIG.
Oh, ruthless heart of man! Offend his pride,
And reason in his breast forsakes her seat;
In his blind wrath he'll stake upon a cast
A child's existence, and a mother's heart!

BAUMGARTEN.
Is then your husband's fate not hard enough,
That you embitter it by such reproaches?
Have you no feeling for his sufferings?

HEDWIG (turning to him and gazing full upon him).
Hast thou tears only for thy friend's distress?
Say, where were you when he--my noble Tell,
Was bound in chains? Where was your friendship, then?
The shameful wrong was done before your eyes;
Patient you stood, and let your friend be dragged,
Ay, from your very hands. Did ever Tell
Act thus to you? Did he stand whining by
When on your heels the viceroy's horsemen pressed,
And full before you roared the storm-tossed lake?
Oh, not with idle tears he showed his pity;
Into the boat he sprung, forgot his home,
His wife, his children, and delivered thee!

FURST.
It had been madness to attempt his rescue,
Unarmed, and few in numbers as we we