Hear, then, what aged herdsmen tell. There dwelt A mighty people in the land that lies Back to the north. The scourge of famine came; And in this strait 'twas publicly resolved, That each tenth man, on whom the lot might fall, Should leave the country. They obey'd--and forth, With loud lamentings, men and women went, A mighty host; and to the south moved on. Cutting their way through Germany by the sword, Until they gained these pine-clad hills of ours; Nor stopp'd they ever on their forward course, Till at the shaggy dell they halted, where The Muta flows through its luxuriant meads. No trace of human creature met their eye, Save one poor hut upon the desert shore, Where dwelt a lonely man, and kept the ferry. A tempest raged--the lake rose mountains high And barr'd their further progress. Thereupon They view'd the country--found it rich in wood, Discover'd goodly springs, and felt as they Were in their own dear native land once more. Then they resolved to settle on the spot; Erected there the ancient town of Schwytz; And many a day of toil had they to clear The tangled brake and forest's spreading roots. Meanwhile their numbers grew, the soil became Unequal to sustain them, and they cross'd To the black mountain, far as Weissland, where, Conceal'd behind eternal walls of ice, Another people speak another tongue. They built the village Stanz, beside the Kernwald; The village Altdorf, in the vale of Reuss; Yet, ever mindful of their parent stem, The men of Schywtz, from all the stranger race, That since that time have settled in the land, Each other recognize. Their hearts still know, And beat fraternally to kindred blood. (Extends his hand right and left.)

Werner Stauffacher Monologue from Wilhelm Tell

Rehearse Werner Stauffacher's monologue