STAUFF. Nay, let him go; no traitors harbour there: For tyranny is so abhorred in Unterwald, No tools can there be found to work her will. In the low valleys, too, the Alzeller Will gain confederates, and rouse the country. MELCH. But how shall we communicate, and not Awaken the suspicion of the tyrants? STAUFF. Might we not meet at Brunnen or at Treib, Where merchant vessels with their cargoes come? FURST. We must not go so openly to work. Hear my opinion. On the lake's left bank, As we sail hence to Brunnen, right against The Mytenstein, deep-hidden in the wood A meadow lies, by shepherds called the Rootli, Because the wood has been uprooted there. [To Melchthal.] 'Tis where our Canton bound'ries verge on yours; [To Stauffacher.] Your boat will carry you across from Schwytz. Thither by lonely bypaths let us wend At midnight, and deliberate o'er our plans. Let each bring with him there ten trusty men, All one at heart with us; and then we may Consult together for the general weal, And, with God's guidance, fix what next to do. STAUFF. So let it be. And now your true right hand! Yours, too, young man! and as we now three men Among ourselves thus knit our hands together In all sincerity and truth, e'en so Shall we three cantons, too, together stand In victory and defeat, in life and death. FURST and MELCH. In life and death! [They hold their hands clasped together for some moments in silence.] MELCH. Alas, my old blind father! The day of freedom, that thou canst not see, But thou shalt hear it, when from Alp to Alp The beacon fires throw up their flaming signs, And the proud castles of the tyrants fall, Into thy cottage shall the Switzer burst, Bear the glad tidings to thine ear, and o'er Thy darken'd way shall Freedom's radiance pour. ACT II. SCENE I. 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.]