William Tell Told Again/Chapter 9

by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse

CHAPTER IX

For many minutes the fight raged furiously round the pole, and the earth shook beneath the iron boots of Friesshardt and Leuthold as they rushed about, striking out right and left with their fists and the flats of their pikes. Seppi the cowboy (an ancestor, by the way, of Buffalo Bill) went down before a tremendous blow by Friesshardt, and Leuthold knocked Klaus von der Flue head over heels.

“What you want,” said Arnold of Sewa, who had seen the beginning of the fight from the window of his cottage and had hurried to join it, and, as usual, to give advice to everybody—“what you want here is guile. That’s what you want—guile, cunning. Not brute force, mind you. It’s no good rushing at a man in armour and hitting him. He only hits you back. You should employ guile. Thus. Observe.”

He had said these words standing on the outskirts of the crowd. He now grasped his cudgel and began to steal slowly towards Friesshardt, who had just given Werni the huntsman such a hit with his pike that the sound of it was still echoing in the mountains, and was now busily engaged in disposing of Jost Weiler. Arnold of Sewa crept stealthily behind him, and was just about to bring his cudgel down on his head, when Leuthold, catching sight of him, saved his comrade by driving his pike with all his force into Arnold's side. Arnold said afterwards that it completely took his breath away. He rolled over, and after being trodden on by everybody for some minutes, got up and limped back to his cottage, where he went straight to bed, and did not get up for two days.

All this time Tell had been standing a little way off with his arms folded, looking on. While it was a quarrel simply between himself and Friesshardt he did not mind fighting. But when the crowd joined in he felt that it was not fair to help so many men attack one, however badly that one might have behaved.

He now saw that the time had come to put an end to the disturbance. He drew an arrow from his quiver, placed it in his crossbow, and pointed it at the hat. Friesshardt, seeing what he intended to do, uttered a shout of horror and rushed to stop him. But at that moment somebody in the crowd hit him so hard with a spade that his helmet was knocked over his eyes, and before he could raise it again the deed was done. Through the cap and through the pole and out at the other side sped the arrow. And the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Tell standing beside him twirling his moustache, while all around the crowd danced and shouted and threw their caps into the air with joy.

"A mere trifle," said Tell modestly.

The crowd cheered again and again.

Friesshardt and Leuthold lay on the ground beside the pole, feeling very sore and bruised, and thought that perhaps, on the whole, they had better stay there. There was no knowing what the crowd might do after this, if they began to fight again. So they lay on the ground and made no attempt to interfere with the popular rejoicings. What they wanted, as Arnold of Sewa might have said if he had been there, was a few moments' complete rest. Leuthold's helmet had been hammered with sticks until it was over his

PLATE X. And Tell, before the tyrant hailed, No patriot you'd have guessed him, For even his stout bosom quailed When Gessler thus addressed him:— "As you're the crack shot of these Swiss (I've often heard it said so), Suppose you take a shot at this, Placed on your youngster's head—so!"

eyes and all out of shape, and Friesshardt's was very little better. And they both felt just as if they had been run over in the street by a horse and cart.

“Tell!” shouted the crowd. “Hurrah for Tell! Good old Tell!”

“Tell’s the boy!” roared Ulric the smith. “Not another man in Switzerland could have made that shot.”

“No,” shrieked everybody, “not another!”

“Speech!” cried someone from the edge of the crowd.

“Speech! Speech! Tell, speech!” Everybody took up the cry.

“No, no,” said Tell, blushing.

“Go on, go on!" shouted the crowd.

“Oh, I couldn’t," said Tell; “I don’t know what to say.”

“Anything will do. Speech! Speech!"

Ulric the smith and Ruodi the fisherman hoisted Tell on to their shoulders, and, having coughed once or twice, he said:

“Gentlemen——”

Cheers from the crowd.

“Gentlemen,” said Tell again, “this is the proudest moment of my life.”

More cheers.

“I don’t know what you want me to talk about. I have never made a speech before. Excuse my emotion. This is the proudest moment of my life. To-day is a great day for Switzerland. We have struck the first blow of the revolution. Let us strike some more.”

Shouts of “Hear, hear!” from the crowd, many of whom, misunderstanding Tell’s last remark, proceeded to hit Leuthold and Friesshardt, until stopped by cries of “Order!” from Ulric the smith.

“Gentlemen,” continued Tell, “the flood-gates of revolution have been opened. From this day they will stalk through the land burning to ashes the slough of oppression which our tyrant Governor has erected in our midst. I have only to add that this is the proudest moment of my life, and——”

He was interrupted by a frightened voice.

“Look out, you chaps,” said the voice; “here comes the Governor!”

Gessler, with a bodyguard of armed men, had entered the meadow, and was galloping towards them.