For must it not be thought some base men's souls Ye should forgive this bloody-minded man Save at the express instance of the Earl. And now what asks he? Pardon me, sir knights, [To GRUTT and BETTE, I had forgotten, looking back and back From felony to felony foregoing, This present civil message which ye bring : Up to that mercy which I tell you of— That mercy which your mariners proved-which steep'd Three hundred citizens,—a secret list- May whisper him to death-and hark-look to it! They are marked men-and not a man stands here [To GRUTT and BETTE. You are the pickers and the choosers here, Three hundred citizens to certain death? Ho! Van den Bosch! have at these traitors-there [Stabs GRUTT, who falls. Van den Bosch. Die, treasonable dog-is that enough? Down, felon, and plot treacheries in hell. [Stabs BETTE. [The WHITE-HOODS draw their swords, with loud cries of 'TREASON,' 'ARTEVELDE,' and 'GHENT.' A citizen of the other party, who in the former part of the scene had unfurled the EARL's banner, now throws it down and flies; several others are following him, and the ALDERMEN and DEANS, some of whom had been dropping off towards the end of ARTEVELDE'S speech, now quit the platform with precipitation. VAN AESWYN is crossed by VAN DEN BOSCH. Van den Bosch. Die thou, too, traitor. [Aiming a blow at him. Artevelde, (warding it off.) Van den Bosch, forbear. Up with your weapons, White-Hoods; no more blood. These only are the guilty who lie here. Let no more blood be spilt on pain of death. There's no man lives within the walls of Ghent But Artevelde will look to him and his, And suffer none to plunder or molest him. Van den Bosch. That is not to my mind; but what of that? Thou'st play'd the game right boldly, and for me, Artevelde. Thou to thine errand, then, and I myself, I'll meet thee here again. Form, White-Hoods, form: Sir Henry Taylor. LXV. WILLIAM TELL. ACT IV. SCENE II. Without the Castle. Enter, slowly, several citizens, as if observing something following them. VERNER and THEODORE. Verner. The pace they're moving at is that of men About to do the work of death. Some wretch Is doom'd to suffer. Should it be Tell! Should it be my friend Theodore. No doubt 'tis some good man. Ver. Poor Switzerland! poor country! Not a son Is left to thee that's worthy to be one. 'Tis not a common man, with such parade, They lead to death: I count four castellains already. Ver. And Sarnem, too! Do you see him? The. Yes; and Gesler follows him. Who can it be? Ver. We'll see. He's coming now 'Tis William Tell! The. Verner, do you know the boy That follows him? Ver. A boy! It is his son ! What horror 's to be acted? Do you see The. No! I see no headsman there, Ver. Lo you how The women clasp their hands, and now and then A headsman ! Enter PIERRE. Pierre. Horrible !-most-horrible Decree! To save his own and Albert's life, Of his own child! Enter, slowly, Burghers and Women, LUTOLD, RODOLPH, GERARD, SARNEM, GESLER, TELL, ALBERT, and a Soldier bearing TELL'S bow and quiver—another with a basket of apples-Soldiers, etc. Gesler. That is your ground. Now shall they Tell. What is't to me? A little thing, Ges. Be thankful, slave, Our grace accords thee life on any terms. Tell. I will be thankful, Gesler! Villain ! stop! You measure to the sun. Ges. And what of that? What matter whether to or from the sun? Tell. I'd have it at my back-the sun should shine |