第11章
The mansion of the Baron of Attinghausen.A Gothic Hall, decorated with escutcheons and helmets.The Baron, a grey-headed man, eighty-five years old, tall and of a commanding mien, clad in a furred pelisse, and leaning on a staff tipped with chamois horn.Kuoni and six hinds standing round him with rakes and scythes.Ulrich of Rudenz enters in the costume of a knight.
RUD.
Uncle, I'm here! Your will?
ATTING.
First let me share, After the ancient custom of our house, The morning cup, with these my faithful servants!
[He drinks from a cup, which is then passed round.]
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 hills.
Thus slowly, in an ever-narrowing sphere, I move on to the narrowest and the last, Where all life's pulses cease.I now am but The shadow of my former self, and that Is fading fast--'twill soon be but a name.
KUONI (offering Rudenz the cup).
A pledge, young master!
[Rudenz hesitates to take the cup.]
Nay, Sir, drink it off!
One cup, one heart! You know our proverb, Sir?
ATTING.
Go, children, and at eve, when work is done, We'll meet and talk the country's business over.
[Exeunt servants.]
Belted and plumed, and all thy bravery on!
Thou art for Altdorf--for the castle, boy?
RUD.
Yes, uncle.Longer may I not delay--
ATTING.(sitting down).
Why in such haste? Say, are thy youthful hours Doled in such niggard measure, that thou must Be chary of them to thy aged uncle?
RUD.
I see my presence is not needed here, I am but as a stranger in this house.
ATTING.(gazes fixedly at him for a considerable time).
Ay, pity 'tis thou art! Alas, that home To thee has grown so strange! Oh, Uly! Uly!
I scarce do know thee now, thus deck'd in silks, The peacock's feather[*] flaunting in thy cap, And purple mantle round thy shoulders flung;Thou look'st upon the peasant with disdain;And tak'st his honest greeting with a blush.
[*] The Austrian knights were in the habit of wearing a plume of peacock's feathers in their helmets.After the overthrow of the Austrian dominion in Switzerland, it was made highly penal to wear the peacock's feather at any public assembly there.
RUD.
All honour due to him I gladly pay, But must deny the right he would usurp.
ATTING.
The sore displeasure of its monarch rests Upon our 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.
Abandoning thy friends, thou tak'st thy stand Beside thy country's foes, and, as in scorn Of our distress, pursuest giddy joys, Courting the smiles of princes all the while Thy country bleeds beneath their cruel scourge.
RUD.
The land is sore oppress'd, I know it, uncle.
But why? Who plunged it into this distress?
A word, one little easy word, might buy Instant deliverance from all our ills, And win the good will of the Emperor.
Woe unto those who seal the people's eyes.
And make them adverse to their country's good--The men who, for their own vile, selfish ends, Are seeking to prevent the Forest States From swearing fealty to Austria's House, As all the countries round about have done.
It fits their humour well, to take their seats Amid the nobles on the Herrenbank;[*]
They'll have the Kaiser for their lord, forsooth, That is to say, they'll have no lord at all.
[*] The bench reserved for the nobility.
ATTING.
Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy!
RUD.
You urged me to this answer.Hear me out.
What, uncle, is the character you've stoop'd To fill contentedly through life? Have you No higher pride, than in these lonely wilds To be the Landamman or Banneret,[*]
The petty chieftain of a shepherd race? How!
Were it not a far more glorious choice, To bend in homage to our royal lord, And swell the princely splendours of his court, Than sit at home, the peer of your own vassals, And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns?
[*] The Landamman was an officer chosen by the Swiss Gemeinde, or Diet, to preside over them.The Banneret was an officer entrusted with the keeping of the State Banner, and such others as were taken in battle.
ATTING.
Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see, The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear, And pour'd its subtle poison in thy heart.
RUD.
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!"Think you the heart that's stirring here can brook, While all the young nobility around Are reaping honour under Hapsburg's banner, That I should loiter, in inglorious ease, Here on the heritage my fathers left, And, in the dull routine of vulgar toil, Lose all life's glorious spring? In other lands Great deeds are done.A world of fair renown Beyond these mountains stirs in martial pomp.
My helm and shield are rusting in the hall;The martial trumpet's spirit-stirring blast, The herald's call, inviting to the lists, Rouse not the echoes of these vales, where nought Save cowherd's horn and cattle bell is heard, In one unvarying dull monotony.
ATTING.
Deluded boy, seduced by empty show!
Despise the land that gave thee birth! Ashamed Of the good ancient customs of thy sires!
The day will come, when thou, with burning tears, Wilt long for home, and for thy native hills, And that dear melody of tuneful herds, Which now, in proud disgust, thou dost despise!
A day when wistful pangs shall shake thy heart, Hearing their music in a foreign land.