Part 243 (1/2)
They'll have the Caesar for their lord, forsooth, That is to say, they'll have no lord at all.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy!
RUDENZ.
You urged me to this answer. Hear me out.
What, uncle, is the character you've stooped To fill contentedly through life? Have you No higher pride, than in these lonely wilds To be the Landamman or Banneret, [11]
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 splendors of his court, Than sit at home, the peer of your own va.s.sals, And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns?
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see, The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear, And poured its subtle poison in thy heart.
RUDENZ.
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 n.o.bles.”
Think you the heart that's stirring here can brook, While all the young n.o.bility around Are reaping honor 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 Deeds are achieved. A world of fair renown Beyond these mountains stirs in martial pomp.
My helm and s.h.i.+eld 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 naught Save cowherd's horn and cattle-bell is heard, In one unvarying, dull monotony.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
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 thou wilt drink its tones in sadness, Hearing their music in a foreign land.
Oh! potent is the spell that binds to home!
No, no, the cold, false world is not for thee.
At the proud court, with thy true heart thou wilt Forever feel a stranger among strangers.
The world asks virtues of far other stamp Than thou hast learned within these simple vales.
But go--go thither; barter thy free soul, Take land in fief, become a prince's va.s.sal, Where thou might'st be lord paramount, and prince Of all thine own unburdened heritage!
O, Uly, Uly, stay among thy people!
Go not to Altdorf. Oh, abandon not The sacred cause of thy wronged native land!
I am the last of all my race. My name Ends with me. Yonder hang my helm and s.h.i.+eld; They will be buried with me in the grave. [12]
And must I think, when yielding up my breath, That thou but wait'st the closing of mine eyes, To stoop thy knee to this new feudal court, And take in va.s.salage from Austria's hands The n.o.ble lands, which I from G.o.d received Free and unfettered as the mountain air!
RUDENZ.
'Tis vain for us to strive against the king.
The world pertains to him:--shall we alone, In mad, presumptuous obstinacy strive To break that mighty chain of lands, which he Hath drawn around us with his giant grasp.
His are the markets, his the courts; his too The highways; nay, the very carrier's horse, That traffics on the Gotthardt, pays him toll.
By his dominions, as within a net, We are enclosed, and girded round about.
--And will the empire s.h.i.+eld us? Say, can it Protect itself 'gainst Austria's growing power?
To G.o.d, and not to emperors, must we look!
What store can on their promises be placed, When they, to meet their own necessities, Can p.a.w.n, and even alienate the towns That flee for shelter 'neath the eagle's wings? [13]
No, uncle. It is wise and wholesome prudence, In times like these, when faction's all abroad, To own attachment to some mighty chief.
The imperial crown's transferred from line to line, [14]
It has no memory for faithful service: But to secure the favor of these great Hereditary masters, were to sow Seed for a future harvest.
ATTINGHAUSEN.
Art so wise?