neighbouring youths pleased her enough to make any impression upon
_her_, and the consequence was, that her charms made but little
impression upon _them_. With all her vivacity, there was a certain
something in Rosanna’s manner, which kept the multitude in awe. Every
one admired her, wished her well, was pleased to see her join in their
amusements, but she produced no warmer sentiment. A kind of dignity, of
which she was herself unconscious, prevented the young men from being as
much at their ease with her, as with her companions, and kept even the
least abashed of them at a distance: at length the society was increased
by the arrival of a person, who only required to be seen, in order to
inspire her with a wish to obtain from him something more than
indifference, or mere dispassionate approbation.
The ancient friendship established between the families of William Tell
and Henric Melthal was kept up by their descendants in all its original
vigour. A son of that Alwyn Melthal, who played the chief part at the
capture of Rassburg, was still alive, and nearly of the same age with
that old relation of William Tell, whom I formerly mentioned. Both these
venerable men were still fresh and hearty in spite of their advanced
time of life; such is indeed the natural effect of breathing the pure
mountain air, and living far from the vices and excesses of cities. The
two families often met together, and their days of festivity were always
observed in common.
Old Melthal had several children; but now it was rumoured, that one of
them called Erwin (whom no one recollected to have ever heard of before)
was just returned from foreign parts, and that a great feast was shortly
to be given in honour of his safe arrival. Accordingly, the venerable
chief of the Melthals made a tour through the neighbouring districts,
for the purpose of inviting his relations and intimates to assemble on
the green lawn before his house on an appointed day; thence to accompany
his newly-arrived son to the old church on the banks of the Lake, and
return thanks to Heaven for his prosperous return; and finally, to pass
the remainder of the day and a good portion of the following night at
his expence in various festivities and amusements.
Tell’s family was one of the first invited: the expectation of the
approaching entertainment gave a look of joy to every countenance. In
the great world, no one looks forward to a day marked out for some
amusement with half this enthusiasm: the hurry of tiresome and expensive
preparations; recollections, how often on similar occasions we have
expected more amusement, than we received; the frequent recurrence of
such pleasures, which robs them of the charm of novelty; the suggestions
of mortified vanity or dissatisfied pride; all these combine to embitter
the festivals of the great. But here in the land of innocence and
gaiety, here where no one looks for any pleasure, but that which he is
sure of finding; where pride and vanity have nothing to do; where every
recollection is delightful, and the whole expence and preparation
consist in a wreath of fresh-gathered flowers; here it is, that an
invitation to a party of pleasure is really welcome, and seldom fails of
justifying its name.
The sun was not yet risen, and the youths and damsels of Tell’s family
were already on their road to Melthal’s cottage. Lots were cast among
the girls to decide, who should have the honour to conduct the
procession; the chance fell upon Rosanna. In consequence, she added to
that which confined her locks, a second wreath of flowers which she hung
round her arm, ready (as was the custom on such occasions) to crown the
hero of the entertainment. It was a special privilege enjoyed by that
company of young people, which arrived first at the place of rendezvous,
that a similar garland to that, with which themselves were adorned,
should ornament the head of the principal personage, whereas the
garlands of the others could only be worn by relations of that
particular family; and this privilege was one, which they valued highly.
Tell’s children, therefore, entreated their sister Rosanna to hasten
forwards, in order that no one might arrive before them; and obliging as
she ever was, she quickened her steps, though solely from the desire to
comply with their wishes: for she little guessed the sort of youth, for
whom her garland had been woven. She expected to see a person, who would
be as indifferent to her as all those were, whom she had already seen;
and it was a matter of little concern to her, whether she ornamented
with her garland the locks of the young Melthal, or of one of her own
relations.
But how were her sentiments changed, when at the head of her company she
arrived on the brow of a little hill, and looked down upon Melthal’s
cottage! There sat the old man on a stone bench before the door; and
near him stood a youth, whose countenance was illumined by the rosy
light of the rising sun, and whose figure excelled in manly beauty every
thing that she had ever seen, nay that she had ever thought or dreamt
of.—She started back.
—“What!” said she to herself; “can this be a son of the old Henric
Melthal? No, no! ’tis certainly some angel, or some saint or martyr at
the least. In truth, I never saw one of the beings, to whom those names
are applied; but I have been told much respecting such supernatural
Existences, and surely if they ever deign to visit the earth in human
form, they must needs resemble yonder youth.”—
Erwin Melthal appeared to be in earnest conversation with his father:
but no sooner was he aware of the approaching guests, than he hastened
towards them, and delivered a welcome with such unaffected grace and
easy dignity, that Rosanna’s delight and astonishment were raised to the
very highest pitch.
Tell’s family was in fact the first arrived, and Rosanna’s garland was
without a competitor for the honour of adorning Erwin’s head; an honour,
which she now no longer looked upon as a matter of indifference, and
which she could not have consented to make over to one of her companions
without some little movements of jealousy and dissatisfaction.
She approached the stranger, while her cheeks were suffused with
blushes, and her hand trembled, as she drew the garland from her arm. He
stood before her like some well grown cedar, and bowed down his head a
little to be crowned by the lovely stranger. She hesitated, retired a
few steps, and looked anxiously round to her female companions, as if
she would willingly have given up her office to one of them: while
Erwin, either out of respect and admiration at the heavenly vision which
now stood manifest before him, or from the more earthly consideration of
the difference between her stature and his own, sank upon one knee
before her, and in this attitude was crowned by her trembling hands.
It was an established custom, that the conductress of the first company
that arrived, on these occasions should be the partner of the king of
the festival during the whole of the day. Rosanna, who loved to enjoy
the earliest breath of morning and the glories of the rising sun, had
already frequently obtained this privilege without its causing her much
emotion; but now when she reflected, that for a whole day she should be
by the side of Erwin Melthal; that she should kneel on the same step
with him at church; should join at the same time and almost in the same
breath with him in the most solemn offices of devotion; should blend her
voice with his in prayers and anthems; and that at table, in the dance,
at every kind of festivity, she should still have no associate but
Erwin, all this was too much for her to conceive at once, and her
feelings scarcely permitted her to breathe.
Still she only dared to express those feelings by looks and blushes: but
Erwin, who felt the same, was not confined like her by the restraints of
decorum. He made use of the privilege of his sex, and not only spoke,
but spoke so plainly, that little as Rosanna was skilled in the language
of love, which she then first heard from his lips, she still understood
his meaning; and little as she ventured to answer, still before the
entertainment concluded, she had left no doubt upon his mind, that their
affection was mutual. The embarrassment, which took place at their first
meeting; the gift of her garland; the religious ceremonies in which they
had been engaged together, and in which each had stolen a little from
that which was destined for Heaven, for the purpose of bestowing it on
the other; all these circumstances and a thousand other trifles, which
occurred in the course of the entertainment, assured them, that an
exchange of hearts had taken place, that their sentiments were
sanctioned by the approbation of Heaven, and that every thing would turn
out as they wished and expected.
From this day forwards Erwin’s leisure was totally engrossed by Rosanna.
The habitations of Tell and Melthal were not so very distant, but that
by setting out at the same time the lovers were certain to meet halfway,
time enough to pass some hours together undisturbed: besides the
intimate connection, which subsisted between the two families, furnished
too many opportunities of intercourse, to admit of their often
complaining of long absence from each other. The passion, which grew
stronger in their bosoms with every hour, was carefully concealed from
every one; not that they had any reason to apprehend censure from their
superiors; but because secrecy seemed to give an additional charm to the
correspondence of their hearts, and because the goal of their desires
seemed to be still at a considerable distance.
The venerable Melthal, the youth’s great-grandfather, had caused him to
be educated in a foreign country, and intended him for the profession of
arms. Erwin had been long suffered to remain ignorant, both to what
family he belonged, and to what country he owed his origin: but the good
antient (whom the number of his years rather than any sensible infirmity
made conscious, that the close of his existence could not be far
removed) now thought proper to summon his grandson to a private
conference, in which he disclosed to him many particulars of great
importance.
—“One more campaign,” said Erwin to his mistress, the first time that he
saw her after holding this conversation with old Melthal, “one more
campaign under the Emperor’s banners, in whose service I am at present
engaged; and then will I hasten back to lay my laurels at the feet of my
Rosanna, confess my love for her, and fix my habitation with her in that
quarter of the globe, which her fancy shall prefer. If she thinks proper
still to reside in the shades of her native vallies, there too will I
take up my abode: if she rather desires to see the world (which in truth
has its charms and can show some scenes, with which even these
enchanting solitudes must not come in competition) perhaps her happy
Erwin may succeed in procuring for her there a situation better suited
to her merits, than that which she must fill in the obscurity of these
retired mountains.”—
—“Dear Erwin,” interrupted Rosanna, “speak no more of this; speak not of
my merits, or of removing me to the great world! Ah! why must you needs
yourself go thither? Is it not enough to make me hate that world, that
it soon must rob me of your society? and alas! who knows, whether you
will return from that wild tumult, which I only know by description,
with sentiments as kind and as honest and true an heart, as you will
bear away with you!”—
Poor Rosanna was bathed in tears, while she made these representations.
She had had dreams, and omens, and forebodings, which promised nothing
good, and which her lover soon banished by means, which every lover (the
false as well as the true) equally practises on similar occasions. But
Erwin was true as the truest; and his oaths were heard and registered in
the Book of Eternity by the Angel, who suffers no perjury to escape
unpunished.
There was one person in the world, with whom Rosanna had been too long
accustomed to share all her joys and all her sorrows, all her hopes and
all her fears, not to make her feel uneasy under the profound secrecy,
which she had hitherto imposed on herself respecting her attachment:
that person was Mary. In fact, she had already suffered some distant
hints to escape her, that she had a secret to communicate; and at length
she summoned up all her resolution, and (with Erwin’s approbation) set
forward one morning for the Convent of Engelberg, determined to lay her
whole heart open to her sister’s inspection.
Though Mary found her own felicity within the bounds of cloistered
retirement, her notions were too liberal to make her consider it as
improper, that Rosanna should seek for happiness in the arms of an
affectionate husband. With folded hands and a countenance bright with
tranquil joy, she piously invoked a blessing on her sister’s union with
the honest-hearted Erwin; though she could not help lamenting with a
sigh, that he should have adopted the profession of Blood! Before they
separated, it was settled between the Sisters, that on an appointed day
Rosanna should conduct her lover to the Convent, in order that Mary
might become personally acquainted with her future brother.
This interview was not difficult to be procured; Mary had not yet
pronounced her vows, and was left at perfect liberty to employ her time,
as she thought proper. Yet partly from a wish to make the business no
more public than could be avoided, and partly from a movement of
religious enthusiasm which forcibly operated upon her imagination, Mary
desired, that the meeting should not take place, till the evening was on
the point of closing.
It was in autumn, and the weather proved gloomy. Mary had provided
herself with a key of the Chapel, and it was in this awful place, that
she received the lovers. A small porch, faintly lighted by the
glimmerings of a distant lamp, witnessed their first meeting. Mary (who
in spite of her extreme youth had already adopted the dignity and grave
character appropriate to her destined station) spoke long and seriously
to the warrior, respecting the sincerity of his attachment and the
sacred nature of his engagement to Rosanna. His answers were such as she
most desired to hear; and she now conducted them into the Chapel, where
she had already placed two burning tapers before an altar consecrated to
Saint Engeltruda.
—“Kneel,” said she, “kneel upon the stone, on which Amalberga was
kneeling when seized by the sacrilegious Landenberg; kneel, and swear in
the presence of God and of this chapel’s Patron-Saint, never even in
thought to swerve from the strictest rules of eternal truth and
unsullied virtue: so shall this place be cleansed from the pollution,
which it contracted from the impure steps of the virgin’s ravisher!—May
Landenberg’s fate be thine, Erwin, shouldst thou ever for one instant
prove faithless to Rosanna!—Never may’st thou, Rosanna, find in the time
of need such a preserver as Amalberga found in Eginhart, shouldst thou
ever forget the man, to whom I now solemnly betroth thee in the face of
listening Heaven.—Let nothing part you, but the grave!—And should
hereafter either of you from inconstancy or caprice rend asunder the
sacred bonds, with which I now unite your fates for ever, that instant
shall my form (be I living, or be I dead) stand before you threatening
and awful, and warn you to return to the paths of propriety and
duty!—But peace, everlasting peace be with the bosoms of faith, and may
the wings of angels overspread them and preserve them!”—
Erwin and Rosanna, as they gazed on the lovely form, which stood before
them illuminated by the pale light of the consecrated tapers, fancied
themselves in the presence of some celestial being. They thought, that
in her words they heard the voice of her Patron-Saint; they swore
fidelity while life should last, and Mary kissed and blessed them.
She then accompanied them to the Chapel-porch; and the betrothed or
rather the espoused lovers (for as such they now considered themselves)
bent their course homewards beneath a sky heavy with the dews of an
autumnal evening. Not one syllable did they exchange, as they past
along; a gentle pressure of the hand occasionally was the only manner,
in which they gave token of their feelings. Yet was their joy not quite
unclouded; a secret heaviness weighed down their hearts: melancholy
forebodings forbade their abandoning themselves entirely to the
delightful thought—“We are united for ever!”—
The three actors in this solemn and singular scene had not enveloped
their secret in so impenetrable a veil, as they imagined; and this
transaction was the means of their meeting with many severe reproofs
from those, to whom they were in subjection. The youthful devotee had
been watched by an inquisitive Nun; and the respectable office, which
she had thought proper to perform on this occasion, was made known to
the Abbess the next morning. Severe were the censures past by that
good lady on Mary’s boldness, in assuming a character so ill adapted
to her time of life. On the other hand, each of the lovers was
closeted by the chief of their respective families; and many
representations were laid before them in these private conferences,
which seemed to make great impression on the minds of both, though
they had not the smallest effect in diminishing their mutual
attachment. At their next meeting Erwin revealed not to Rosanna one
word of the conversation, which he had held with his grandfather
Melthal; neither on _her_ side was Rosanna more communicative of the
information, which she had gained from the old William Tell. They only
confest to each other, that the main-topic of both these secret
conferences had been reasons for their renouncing their so lately
contracted union; and the question was exchanged—“Whether what each
had heard, but which neither revealed, was of such force, as to
authorize their breaking vows, which had been pronounced with such
solemnity”—“No!”—uttered in a tone so positive, as to convey in it a
renewal of all their former oaths, was the reply on both sides: yet
they agreed to commit their cause to Heaven and Time, and to suffer,
to hope, and to believe, what (in secret each was compelled to own)
appeared then to be impossible.
That Erwin and Rosanna were mutually attached to each other, had been
long suspected; but the fact was now made known throughout the Province,
and the prejudice ran universally in favour of the lovers. The youths
and damsels exclaimed loudly against the severity of the two fathers;
and even the old people shook their heads, and let a few words escape
them now and then about inexplicable obstinacy. They declared, that
Melthal’s son and Tell’s daughter seemed to be formed for one another,
that they ought to be united, and that united they would be some day or
other, happen what might. Whenever they encountered the dejected lovers,
they never failed to whisper some kind exhortations to be faithful, and
to hope for better times; while on the other hand their young companions
were anxious to furnish them with opportunities of meeting, and
frequently in their village festivals the lovers suddenly found
themselves encircled by the same chain of flowers, and heard every voice
unite in singing the praise of their tender attachment and their wishes
for its happy issue. A thousand ballads were made upon them, some
plaintive, some gay, and they circulated from mouth to mouth with
rapidity; for the love of Erwin and Rosanna was an affair, in which the
whole Province felt itself interested.
This universal good-will, however, advanced their cause but little. When
they were alone, each spoke of eternal fidelity and insurmountable
difficulties; each made it evident, that a secret sorrow weighed heavy
upon the heart; each found fault with the father of the other, and
declared him to be extremely in the wrong; while the father of the
speaker was asserted to be perfectly in the right, at the same time that
to obey him was acknowledged to be impossible. As to the two old men,
they took no steps towards an explanation. It was rather observed, that
from this time forward they shunned each other’s society, and seemed by
the mutual distance thus suddenly created between them, to give their
children a hint of the conduct, which they expected them also to adopt.
Sooner than they were aware, chance relieved them from the troublesome
employment of watching over the lovers. Erwin was unexpectedly summoned
to join the Emperor’s army, and the orders were so pressing, as not even
to permit his taking leave of his mistress. Yet as he past by it on his
road, he said a short but fervent prayer in the Chapel of Engelberg; he
commended himself and his fortunes to the protection of that Saint, who
had heard his vows pronounced; and Mary being fortunately among the
Nuns, and within reach of his eye, he implored her by signs to bear his
melancholy greeting to her sister. Mary perfectly understood the meaning
of those signs; though it was long, before an opportunity presented
itself for complying with his wish. Ever since her culpable interference
in unhallowed love-affairs, the virtuous Lady Abbess had caused a strict
watch to be kept over Mary; and though Rosanna’s heart was full and
greatly needed the consolations of a sister’s tenderness, she still
hesitated to visit Engelberg. The secret, which the old Tell had
revealed to her, was a dead weight upon her heart; she knew well, that
it was her duty to make it immediately known to Mary, who was no less
interested in it than herself; and she trembled to hear the decision,
which (she doubted not) would be pronounced even by her truest friend
and the partial favourer of her love, as soon as she should be made
acquainted with the real nature of the case.
The useful art of penmanship, which a century before had been familiar
in these parts, and practised by persons totally unconnected with
learned pursuits, even by women, (as the annals of the Ladies of Sargans
testify,) at the present period was fallen into neglect. With the
exception of some few characters of distinguished merit, it was confined
to the clergy, and alas! in this respect Erwin and Rosanna were
completely laical: neither was it safe or prudent to confide their
tender secrets to the discretion of chance messengers; and it
necessarily followed, that the lovers were but seldom informed of the
proceedings of each other. Common fame however occasionally brought the
maid tidings of her warrior not less strange than satisfactory; and the
girls of the Valley frequently were able to comfort their sorrowing
companion with reports, which asserted Erwin’s heroism to be only
equalled by his good fortune. Rosanna’s heart readily gave credit to
assertions so flattering; and she was too well disposed to believe them,
to require much proof of their veracity; nay, she sometimes was so
completely fascinated by the illusions of Fancy, that she could not
refrain from communicating her hopes to the venerable Tell.
—“Surely, my good father,” would she say to him, “should Erwin return to
me crowned with honour and renown; should he be really what Fame
asserts, the favourite of his Emperor, what is more probable, than that
the lowness of his origin should be sunk in the splendour of some
new-acquired title, and his merits be rewarded by his elevation to some
station of importance? and in that case, where would be the impropriety
of my giving him my hand? and what obstacle would my mother’s
injunctions oppose any longer to our union?”—