And though he sat within the icy domes Of yon far Schreckhorn--ay, or higher, where, Veil'd since eternity, the Jungfrau soars, Still to the tyrant would I make my way; With twenty comrades minded like myself, I'd lay his fastness level with the earth! And if none follow me, and if you all, In terror for your homesteads and your herds, Bow in submission to the tyrant's yoke, Round me I'll call the herdsmen on the hills, And there beneath heaven's free and boundless roof, Where men still feel as men, and hearts are true, Proclaim aloud this foul enormity! (STAUFF: The measure's full--and are we then to wait Till some extremity--) Peace! What extremity Remains for us to dread? What, when our eyes No longer in their sockets are secure? Heavens! Are we helpless? Wherefore did we learn To bend the cross-bow,--wield the battle-axe? What living creature but in its despair, Finds for itself a weapon of defence? The baited stag will turn, and with the show Of his dread antlers hold the hounds at bay; The chamois drags the hunstman down th' abyss, The very ox, the partner of man's toil, The sharer of his roof, that meekly bends The strength of his huge neck beneath the yoke, Springs up, if he's provoked, whets his strong horn, And tosses his tormentor to the clouds.

Arnold Of Melchthal Monologue from Wilhelm Tell

Rehearse Arnold Of Melchthal's monologue