FRIESSHARDT. They were obliged to pass this way at noon, As they were coming from the council house. I counted then upon a famous catch, For no one thought of bowing to the cap. But Rosselmann, the priest, was even with me: Coming just then from some sick penitent, He stands before the pole--raises the Host-- The Sacrist, too, must tinkle with his bell-- When down they dropped on knee--myself and all In reverence to the Host, but not the cap. LEUTHOLD. Hark ye, companion, I've a shrewd suspicion, Our post's no better than the pillory. It is a burning shame, a trooper should Stand sentinel before an empty cap, And every honest fellow must despise us, To do obeisance to a cap, too! Faith, I never heard an order so absurd! FRIESSHARDT. Why not, an't please thee, to an empty cap. Thou'st ducked, I'm sure, to many an empty sconce. [HILDEGARD, MECHTHILD, and ELSBETH enter with their children and station themselves around the pole. LEUTHOLD. And thou art an officious sneaking knave, That's fond of bringing honest folks to trouble. For my part, he that likes may pass the cap I'll shut my eyes and take no note of him. MECHTHILD. There hangs the viceroy! Your obeisance, children! ELSBETH. I would to God he'd go, and leave his cap! The country would be none the worse for it. FRIESSHARDT (driving them away). Out of the way! Confounded pack of gossips! Who sent for you? Go, send your husbands here, If they have courage to defy the order. [TELL enters with his crossbow, leading his son WALTER by the hand. They pass the hat without noticing it, and advance to the front of the stage. WALTER (pointing to the Bannberg). Father, is't true, that on the mountain there, The trees, if wounded with a hatchet, bleed? TELL. Who says so, boy? WALTER. The master herdsman, father! He tells us there's a charm upon the trees, And if a man shall injure them, the hand That struck the blow will grow from out the grave. TELL. There is a charm about them, that's the truth. Dost see those glaciers yonder, those white horns, That seem to melt away into the sky? WALTER. They are the peaks that thunder so at night, And send the avalanches down upon us. TELL. They are; and Altdorf long ago had been Submerged beneath these avalanches' weight, Did not the forest there above the town Stand like a bulwark to arrest their fall. WALTER (after musing a little). And are there countries with no mountains, father? TELL. Yes, if we travel downwards from our heights, And keep descending in the rivers' courses, We reach a wide and level country, where Our mountain torrents brawl and foam no more, And fair, large rivers glide serenely on. All quarters of the heaven may there be scanned Without impediment. The corn grows there In broad and lovely fields, and all the land Is fair as any garden to the view. WALTER. But, father, tell me, wherefore haste we not Away to this delightful land, instead Of toiling here, and struggling as we do?