Pelham Wodehouse: William Tell Told Again

"A nasty, dangerous occupation," said Hedwig. "I don't like to hear of your being lost on desolate ice-fields, and leaping from crag to crag, and what not. Some day, mark my words, if you are not careful, you will fall down a precipice, or be overtaken by an avalanche, or the ice will break while you are crossing it. There are a thousand ways in which you might get hurt."

"A man of ready wit with a quick eye," replied Tell complacently, "never gets hurt. The mountain has no terror for her children. I am a child of the mountain."

"You are certainly a child!" snapped Hedwig. "It is no use my arguing with you."

"Not very much," agreed Tell, "for I am just off to the town. I have an appointment with your papa and some other gentlemen."

(I forgot to say so before, but Hedwig was the daughter of Walter Fürst.)

"Now, what are you and papa plotting?" asked Hedwig. "I know there is something going on. I suspected it when papa brought Werner Stauffacher and the other man here, and you wouldn't let me listen. What is it? Some dangerous scheme, I suppose?"

"Now, how in the world do you get those sort of ideas into your head?" Tell laughed. "Dangerous scheme! As if I should plot dangerous schemes with your papa!"

"I know," said Hedwig. "You can't deceive me! There is a plot afoot against the Governor, and you are in it."

"A man must help his country."

"They're sure to place you where there is most danger. I know them. Don't go. Send Walter down with a note to say that you regret that an unfortunate previous engagement, which you have just recollected, will make it impossible for you to accept their kind invitation to plot."

"No; I must go."

"And there is another thing," continued Hedwig: "Gessler the Governor is in the town now."

"He goes away to-day."

"Well, wait till he has gone. You must not meet him. He bears you malice."

"To me his malice cannot do much harm. I do what's right, and fear no enemy."

"Those who do right," said Hedwig, "are those he hates the most. And you know he has never forgiven you for speaking like that when you met him in the ravine. Keep away from the town for to-day. Do anything else. Go hunting, if you will."

"No," said Tell; "I promised. I must go. Come along, Walter."

"You aren't going to take that poor dear child? Come here, Walter, directly minute!'

"Want to go with father," said Walter, beginning to cry, for his father had promised to take him with him the next time he went to the town, and he had saved his pocket-money for the occasion.

"Oh, let the boy come," said Tell. "William will stay with you, won't you, William?"

"All right, father," said William.

"Well, mark my words," said Hedwig, "if something bad does not happen I shall be surprised."

"Oh no," said Tell. "What can happen?"

And without further delay he set off with Walter for the town.

In the meantime all kinds of things of which Tell had no suspicion had been happening in the town. The fact that there were no newspapers in Switzerland at that time often made him a little behindhand as regarded the latest events. He had to depend, as a rule, on visits from his friends, who would sit in his kitchen and tell him all about everything that had been going on for the last few days. And, of course, when there was anything very exciting happening in the town, nobody had time to trudge up the hill to Tell's châlet. They all wanted to be in the town enjoying the fun.

What had happened now was this. It was the chief amusement of the Governor, Gessler (who, you will remember, was not a nice man), when he had a few moments to spare from the cares of governing, to sit down and think out some new way of annoying the Swiss people. He was one of those persons who

What he liked chiefly was to forbid something. He would find out what the people most enjoyed doing, and then he would send a herald to say that he was very sorry, but it must stop. He found that this annoyed the Swiss more than anything. But now he was rather puzzled what to do, for he had forbidden everything he could think of. He had forbidden dancing and singing, and playing on any sort of musical instrument, on the ground that these things made such a noise, and disturbed people who wanted to work. He had forbidden the eating of everything except bread and the simplest sorts of meat, because he said that anything else upset people, and made them unfit to do anything except sit still and say how ill they were. And he had forbidden all sorts of games, because he said they were a waste of time.

So that now, though he wanted dreadfully to forbid something else, he could not think of anything.

Then he had an idea, and this was it:

He told his servants to cut a long pole. And they cut a very long pole. Then he said to them, "Go into the hall and bring me one of my hats. Not my best hat, which I wear on Sundays and on State occasions; nor yet my second-best, which I wear every day; nor yet, again, the one I wear when I am out hunting, for all these I need. Fetch me, rather, the oldest of my hats." And they fetched him the very oldest of his hats. Then he said, "Put it on top of the pole." And they put it right on top of the pole. And, last of all, he said, "Go and set up the pole in the middle of the meadow just outside the gates of the town." And they went and set up the pole in the very middle of the meadow just outside the gates of the town.

Then he sent his heralds out to north and south and east and west to summon the people together, because he said he had something very important and special to say to them. And the people came in tens, and fifties, and hundreds, men, women, and children; and they stood waiting in front of the Palace steps till Gessler the Governor should come out and say something very important and special to them.

And punctually at eleven o'clock, Gessler, having finished a capital breakfast, came out on to the top step and spoke to them.

"Ladies and gentlemen,"—he began. (A voice from the crowd: "Speak up!")

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began again, in a louder voice, "if I could catch the man who said 'Speak up!' I would have him bitten in the neck by wild elephants. (Applause.) I have called you to this place to-day to explain to you my reason for putting up a pole, on the top of which is one of my caps, in the meadow just outside the city gates. It is this: You all, I know, respect and love me." Here he paused for the audience to cheer, but as they remained quite silent he went on: "You would all, I know, like to come to my Palace every day and do reverence to me. (A voice: 'No, no!') If I could catch the man who said 'No, no!' I would have him stung on the soles of the feet by pink scorpions; and if he was the same man who said 'Speak up!' a little while ago, the number of scorpions should be doubled. (Loud applause.) As I was saying before I was interrupted, I know you would like to come to my Palace and do reverence to me there. But, as you are many and space is limited, I am obliged to refuse you that pleasure. However, being anxious not to disappoint you, I have set up my cap in the meadow, and you may do reverence to that . In fact, you must . Everybody is to look on that cap as if it were me. (A voice: 'It ain't so ugly as you!') If I could catch the man who made that remark I would have him tied up and teased by trained bluebottles. (Deafening applause.) In fact, to put the matter briefly, if anybody crosses that meadow without bowing down before that cap, my soldiers will arrest him, and I will have him pecked on the nose by infuriated blackbirds. So there! Soldiers, move that crowd on!"