GESSLER.

Audacious boy, this language to thy lord?

RUDENZ.

The Emperor is my lord, not you!  I’m free
As you by birth, and I can cope with you
In every virtue that beseems a knight. 
And if you stood not here in that King’s name,
Which I respect e’en where ’tis most abused,
I’d throw my gauntlet down, and you should give
An answer to my gage in knightly sort. 
Ay, beckon to your troopers!  Here I stand;
But not like these

[Pointing to the people.]

—­unarmed.  I have a sword, And he that stirs one step—­

STAUFFACHER (exclaims). 
                            The apple’s down!

[While the attention of the crowd has been directed to the spot where BERTHA had cast herself between RUDENZ and GESSLER, TELL has shot.]

ROeSSEL.

The boy’s alive!

MANY VOICES.

The apple has been struck!

[WALTER FUeRST staggers and is about to fall.  BERTHA supports him.]

GESSLER (astonished).

How?  Has he shot?  The madman!

BERTHA.

Worthy father! 
Pray you, compose yourself.  The boy’s alive.

WALTER (runs in with the apple).

Here is the apple, father!  Well I knew
You would not harm your boy.

[TELL stands with his body bent forward, as if still following the arrow.  His bow drops from his hand.  When he sees the boy advancing, he hastens to meet him with open arms, and embracing him passionately sinks down with him quite exhausted.  All crowd round them deeply affected.]

BERTHA.

Oh, ye kind Heavens!

FUeRST (to father and son).

My children, my dear children!

STAUFFACHER.

God be praised!

LEUTH.

Almighty powers!  That was a shot indeed! 
It will be talked of to the end of time.

HARRAS.

This feat of Tell, the archer, will be told
Long as these mountains stand upon their base.

[Hands the apple to GESSLER.]

GESSLER.

By Heaven! the apple’s cleft right through the core. 
It was a master shot, I must allow.

ROeSSEL.

The shot was good.  But woe to him who drove
The man to tempt his God by such a feat!

STAUFF.

Cheer up, Tell, rise!  You’ve nobly freed yourself,
And now may go in quiet to your home.

ROeSSEL.

Come, to the mother let us bear her son!

[They are about to lead him off.]

GESSLER.

A word, Tell.

TELL.  Sir, your pleasure?

GESSLER.

Thou didst place
A second arrow in thy belt—­nay, nay! 
I saw it well.  Thy purpose with it?  Speak!

TELL (confused).

It is a custom with all archers, sir.