His ill-will cannot greatly injure me. I do what's right, and care for no man's hate. (HEDW: 'Tis those who do what's right, whom most he hates.) Because he cannot reach them. Me, I ween, His knightship will be glad to leave in peace. (HEDW: Ay!--Are you sure of that?) Not long ago, As I was hunting through the wild ravines Of Shechenthal, untrod by mortal foot,-- There, as I took my solitary way Along a shelving ledge of rocks, where 'twas Impossible to step on either side; For high above rose, like a giant wall, The precipice's side, and far below The Shechen thunder'd o'er its rifted bed; (The boys press towards him, looking upon him with excited curiosity.) There, face to face, I met the Viceroy. He Alone with me--and I myself alone-- Mere man to man, and near us the abyss; And when his lordship had perused my face, And knew the man he had severely fined On some most trivial ground, not long before, And saw me, with my sturdy bow in hand, Come striding towards him, his cheek grew pale, His knees refused their office, and I thought He would have sunk against the mountain side. Then, touch'd with pity for him, I advanced, Respectfully, and said, "'Tis I, my lord." But ne'er a sound could he compel his lips To frame in answer. Only with his hand He beckoned me in silence to proceed. So I pass'd on, and sent his train to seek him.

Wilhelm Tell Monologue

Rehearse Wilhelm Tell's monologue