but I am hungry, and I like quail.

_Lalotte._ Your father will be cold and hungry, for he has been on a
long journey.

_Albert._ But perhaps he will not come. Mother, mother! may we have the
quail if father is late? It is done now, and it will not be good if it
is cooked any more.

_Lalotte._ Hush, you greedy boy! If I were your mother, I would send
you to bed for thinking of such a thing.

_Albert._ You are not the mistress. You are not the mistress, and I
shall not go to bed because you say so!

_William Tell_ (_at door_). But you shall go to bed, young man, if your
Cousin Lalotte tells you to do so. Take them to bed, Lalotte.

_Albert._ Oh, father! We were only joking.

_Lewis._ Please, father, don't send us to bed.

_William Tell._ I must, my boy, because it is late, and I have news for
your mother. Good night, my sons.

_Boys._ Good night, dear father.

[_They go out with Lalotte._]

_William Tell._ Thy father's news is not for young ears.

_Annette._ There is a sadness in thy voice, and trouble in thy face!
Tell me what has happened to thee! Wilt thou not trust me?

_William Tell._ Yes, my Annette! Thou hast ever been a good wife and
faithful friend. Why should I conceal my deeds from thee?

_Annette._ What hast thou done, my husband?

_William Tell._ Perhaps thou wilt blame me.

_Annette._ Nay, for thou art a good man, and whatever thou doest is
right in my eyes.

_William Tell._ Thou knowest how our foreign rulers oppress the good
people of Switzerland?

_Annette._ I do, but why should we poor peasants worry over the affairs
of the nobles?

_William Tell._ But they are our troubles, too. So to-night I have met
with three and thirty men, brave and loyal hearts, who have sworn to
resist our oppressors and free our land from tyranny.

_Annette._ But how can three-and-thirty men think to conquer the armies
of foreign tyrants?

_William Tell._ Sometimes great events are brought about by small means.
All the people in their hearts hate the false ruler of our poor country,
and many of these will willingly die for her sake.

_Annette._ Thou art brave, my husband, but what can so few do?

_William Tell._ Think of it! The father of one of our band has just been
put to a cruel death. No man knows where the tyrant will strike next.
Perhaps Gessler will pick me out for the next victim.

_Annette._ Thee! What charge could he bring against thee?

_William Tell._ He could say that I am the frie