TELL. With his own hand! Murder his child with his own hand--this hand! The hand I’ve led him, when an infant, by! ’Tis beyond horror--’tis most horrible. Amazement! (_His chains fall off._) What’s that you’ve done to me? Villains! put on my chains again. My hands Are free from blood, and have no gust for it, That they should drink my child’s! Here! here! I’ll not Murder my boy for Gesler. ALB. Father--father! You will not hit me, father! TELL. Hit thee! Send The arrow through thy brain; or, missing that, Shoot out an eye; or, if thine eye escape, Mangle the cheek I’ve seen thy mother’s lips Cover with kisses. Hit thee--hit a hair Of thee, and cleave thy mother’s heart. GES. Dost thou consent? TELL. Give me my bow and quiver. GES. For what? TELL. To shoot my boy! ALB. No, father--no! To save me! You’ll be sure to hit the apple-- Will you not save me, father? TELL. Lead me forth; I’ll make the trial. ALB. Thank you! TELL. Thank me! Do You know for what? I will not make the trial, To take him to his mother in my arms And lay him down a corpse before her! GES. Then he dies this moment--and you certainly Do murder him whose life you have a chance To save, and will not use it. TELL. Well, I’ll do it. I’ll make the trial. ALB. Father-- TELL. Speak not to me; Let me not hear thy voice. Thou must be dumb; And so should all things be. Earth should be dumb, And heaven--unless its thunders muttered at The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it. Give me My bow and quiver! GES. When all’s ready. TELL. Well, lead on! SCENE II _Enter, slowly, people in evident distress. Officers, SARNEM, GESLER, TELL, ALBERT, and soldiers, one bearing TELL’S bow and quiver, another with a basket of apples._ GES. That is your ground. Now shall they measure thence A hundred paces. Take the distance. TELL. Is the line a true one? GES. True or not, what is’t to thee? TELL. What is’t to me? A little thing, A very little thing--a yard or two Is nothing here or there--were it a wolf I shot at. Never mind. 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 Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots. I cannot see to shoot against the sun; I will not shoot against the sun! GES. Give him his way. Thou hast cause to bless my mercy. TELL. I shall remember it. I’d like to see The apple I’m to shoot at. GES. Stay! show me the basket--there-- TELL. You’ve picked the smallest one. GES. I know I have.