Without him,
What have you power to do? While Tell was free,
There still, indeed, was hope--weak innocence
Had still a friend, and the oppressed a stay.
Tell saved you all! You cannot all combined
Release him from his cruel prison bonds.

[The BARON wakes.

BAUMGARTEN.
Hush, hush! He starts!

ATTINGHAUSEN (sitting up).
Where is he?

STAUFFACHER.
Who?

ATTINGHAUSEN.
He leaves me,--
In my last moments he abandons me.

STAUFFACHER.
He means his nephew. Have they sent for him?

FURST.
He has been summoned. Cheerily, Sir! Take comfort!
He has found his heart at last, and is our own.

ATTINGHAUSEN.
Say, has he spoken for his native land?

STAUFFACHER.
Ay, like a hero!

ATTINGHAUSEN.
Wherefore comes he not,
That he may take my blessing ere I die?
I feel my life fast ebbing to a close.

STAUFFACHER.
Nay, talk not thus, dear Sir! This last short sleep
Has much refreshed you, and your eye is bright.

ATTINGHAUSEN.
Life is but pain, and even that has left me;
My sufferings, like my hopes, have passed away.

[Observing the boy.

What boy is that?

FURST.
Bless him. Oh, good my lord!
He is my grandson, and is fatherless.

[HEDWIG kneels with the boy before the dying man.

ATTINGHAUSEN.
And fatherless I leave you all, ay, all!
Oh, wretched fate, that these old eyes should see
My country's ruin, as they close in death.
Must I attain the utmost verge of life,
To feel my hopes go with me to the grave.

STAUFFACHER (to FURST).
Shall he depart 'mid grief and gloom like this?
Shall not his parting moments be illumed
By hope's delightful beams? My noble lord,
Raise up your drooping spirit! We are not
Forsaken quite--past all deliverance.

ATTINGHAUSEN.
Who shall deliver you?

FURST.
Ourselves. For know
The Cantons three are to each other pledged
To hunt the tyrants from the land. The league
Has been concluded, and a sacred oath
Confirms our union. Ere another year
Begins its circling course--the blow shall fall.
In a free land your ashes shall repose.

ATTINGHAUSEN.
The league concluded! Is it really so?

MELCHTHAL.
On one day shall the Cantons rise together.
All is prepared to strike--and to this hour
The secret closely kept though hundreds share it;
The ground is hollow 'neath the tyrant's feet;
Their days of rule are numbered, and ere long
No trace of their dominion sha