Think you to find me in the traitor's ranks? Now, as I live, I'd rather give my hand To Gessler's self, all despot though he be, Than to the Switzer who forgets his birth, And stoops to be a tyrant's servile tool. (RUD: Oh Heaven, what words are these?) Say! What can lie Nearer the good man's heart than friends and kindred? What dearer duty to a noble soul, Than to protect weak, suffering innocence, And vindicate the rights of the oppress'd? My very soul bleeds for your countrymen. I suffer with them, for I needs must love them; They are so gentle, yet so full of power; They draw my whole heart to them. Every day I look upon them with increased esteem. But you, whom nature and your knightly vow, Have given them as their natural protector, Yet who desert them and abet their foes In forging shackles for your native land, You--you incense and wound me to the core. It tries me to the utmost not to hate you.

Berth Monologue from Wilhelm Tell

Rehearse Berth's monologue