Hermann Gessler Monologue from Wilhelm Tell

From Wilhelm Tell by Friedrich Schiller

male · defiant · 59 sec

Open a way there--quick! Why this delay? Thy life is forfeited; I might dispatch thee, And see, I graciously repose thy fate Upon the skill of thine own practised hand. No cause has he to say his doom is harsh, Who's made the master of his destiny. Thou boastest thine unerring aim. 'Tis well! Now is the fitting time to show thy skill; The mark is worthy and the prize is great. To hit the bull's eye in the target;--that Can many another do as well as thou; But he, methinks, is master of his craft, Who can at all times on his skill rely, Nor lets his heart disturb or eye or hand.

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