Part 38

Gessler. Insolent traitor! Bind him well.

Albert. Oh, father, I am afraid. Do not let the soldiers take me.

William Tell. Be calm, my son. No harm will come to thee.

Gessler. Indeed, and is this your son? Has he come to mock the cap of our royal master, too? Seize the boy and bind him to yonder tree.

William Tell. What will you do with the boy? Does a captain war with a child?

Gessler. We shall see. I hear you are a famous shot, William Tell, and handle well the bow and arrow. We shall soon know your skill. Have you a good arrow in your quiver? Perhaps you can shoot an apple from the head of your child.

Soldier. Where shall I bind the boy, my captain?

Gessler. To yonder tree. If his father shoots the apple from his child's head, he shall go free. If he fails he must die. Are you ready?

William Tell. Rather would I die than risk killing my eldest son. Let him go, and take my life.

Gessler. That I shall not do. You must both die unless you save your lives as I have said. Will you try the shot or are you afraid?

William Tell. Bind the boy's eyes, I beg. He might move if he saw the arrow coming, and my skill would be in vain.

Gessler. I am willing, for well I know you cannot cleave the apple at that distance.

William Tell. Tyrant! I cannot fail now, when my son's life depends upon me. Stand perfectly still, my brave boy, and father will not hurt you. Now I pray for strength--my trusty arrow must not fail me! There! [He shoots.]

Soldier. See, my captain! The apple is split! That was a fine shot!

Gessler. Yes, it was a good shot, and I did not believe anyone could make it. I suppose I must set you free. But why have you that other arrow in your hand?

William Tell. To shoot you with it had I killed my darling boy.

Gessler. Seize him, my men!

William Tell. Never! Come, Albert! This arrow for him who stops me!

Soldiers. He has escaped!

TIME AND THE SEASONS

Father Time. I must call my children together and give them orders for the New Year. Open the door, my servants, and let the Seasons appear.

Spring (entering). Here I am, Father Time. What are your commands for your youngest daughter?

Father Time. Welcome, my dainty Spring! It is your duty to call the gentle rains to fall upon the thirsting ground. Yours is the pleasant task to paint the blades of young grass a delicate green. You call the birds back from the south and rouse all nature from her winter sleep. The winds blow freshly over the earth; the clouds move here and there, bringing the rain; and the bulbs, hidden under the soil, slowly push their leaves into the sunlight. What flowers will you bring to deck the earth?

Spring. O Father Time! Look here upon my pretty flowers! Here is the snowdrop, so white and brave. It pushes its head up through the snow, which is no whiter than its own petals. And here I have a bunch of crocuses, blue, yellow, white, and of many colors. Aren't they pretty amid the grass? Then the gorgeous tulips, holding their heads so high, making the earth brilliant with their gay, bright colors. I think the golden daffodils and sweet narcissus are my favorite flowers, though I am very fond of what the children call spring beauty.

Father Time. I see, my daughter, that you love all your flower children, and that is right. All are beautiful, each in its own way. And now tell me what joys do you bring to the little children of the earth?

Spring. All the children love me. They hunt for the first flowers, they welcome the first birds returning from the south, and they prepare the garden for the seeds of flowers and vegetables. The boys play marbles everywhere, and run and laugh, filling their lungs with my life-giving air. The organ grinder plays for the children and they dance on the sidewalks, singing and calling out in delight. The trees put forth their tender leaves. The sun fills the air with golden warmth, and the world seems full of promise.

Father Time. Well done, my daughter. And now, my daughter Summer, tell me your plans for the year.

Summer. Dear father, I delay my coming until Spring has prepared the way. The air must be soft and warm to please me, and the earth must be prepared by the rains and the warm rays of the sun. The colors of my flowers are deeper and richer than those of sister Spring. I bring the lilies, the peonies, and the poppies. Best of all, the glowing roses open at my call, and fill the air with perfume.