William Tell
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8 *END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
Etext prepared by Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com
Emma Dudding, emma_302@hotmail.com
and John Bickers, jbickers@ihug.co.nz
Wilhelm Tell
by Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller
Translator: Theodore Martin
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller was born at Marbach,
Wurtemberg, Germany, November 10, 1759. His father had served both as
surgeon and soldier in the War of the Austrian Succession, and at the
time of the poet's birth held an appointment under the Duke of
Wurtemberg. Friedrich's education was begun with a view to holy
orders, but this idea was given up when he was placed in a military
academy established by the Duke. He tried the study of law and then of
medicine, but his tastes were literary; and, while holding a position
as regimental surgeon, he wrote his revolutionary drama, "The
Robbers," which brought down on him the displeasure of his ducal
master. Finding the interference with his personal liberty
intolerable, he finally fled from the Duchy, and in various retreats
went on with his dramatic work. Later he turned to philosophy and
history and through his book on "The Revolt of the Netherlands" he was
appointed professor extraordinarius at Jena, in 1789. His "History of
the Thirty Years' War" appeared in 1790-93, and in 1794 began his
intimate relation with Goethe, beside whom he lived in Weimar from
1799 till his death in 1805. His lyrical poems were produced
throughout his career, but his last period was most prolific both in
these and in dramatic composition, and includes such great works as
his "Wallenstein," "Marie Stuart," "The Maid of Orleans," "The Bride
of Messina," and "William Tell" (1804). His life was a continual
struggle against ill-health and unfavorable circumstances; but he
maintained to the end the spirit of independence and love of liberty
which are the characteristic mark of his writings.
This enthusiasm for freedom is well illustrated in "William Tell," the
most widely popular of his plays. Based upon a world-wide legend which
became localized in Switzerland in the fifteenth century and was
incorporated into the history of the struggle of the Forest Cantons
for deliverance from Austrian domination, it unites with the theme of
liberty that of the beauty of life in primitive natural conditions,
and both in its likenesses and differences illustrates Schiller's
attitude toward the principles of the French Revolution.
WILHELM TELL
by Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
HERMANN GESSLER, governor of Schwytz, and Uri.
WERNER, Baron of Attinghausen, free noble of Switzerland.
ULRICH VON RUDENZ, his Nephew.
People of Schwytz:
WERNER STAUFFACHER.
CONRAD HUNN.
HANS AUF DER MAUER.
JORG IM HOFE.
ULRICH DER SCHMIDT.
JOST VON WEILER.
ITEL REDING.
People of Uri:
WALTER FURST.
WILHELM TELL.
ROSSELMANN, the Priest.
PETERMANN, Sacristan.
KUONI, Herdsman.
WERNI, Huntsman.
RUODI, Fisherman.
People of Unterwald:
ARNOLD OF MELCHTHAL.
CONRAD BAUMGARTEN.
MEYER VON SARNEN.
STRUTH VON WINKELRIED.
KLAUS VON DER FLUE.
BURKHART AM BUHEL.
ARNOLD VON SEWA.
PFEIFFER of Lucerne.
KUNZ of Gersau.
JENNI, Fisherman's son.
SEPPI, Herdsman's son.
GERTRUDE, Stauffacher's wife.
HEDWIG, wife of Tell, daughter of Furst.
BERTHA of Bruneck, a rich heiress.
ARMGART, peasant woman.
MECHTHILD, peasant woman.
ELSBETH, peasant woman.
HILDEGARD, peasant woman.
WALTER, Tell's son.
WILHELM, Tell's son.
FRIESSHARDT, Soldier.
LEUTHOLD, Soldier.
RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, Gessler's master of the horse.
JOHANNES PARRICIDA, Duke of Suabia.
STUSSI, Overseer.
The Mayor of Uri.
A Courier.
Master Stonemason, Companions, and Workmen.
Taskmaster.
A Crier.
Monks of the Order of Charity.
Horsemen of Gessler and Landenberg.
Many Peasants; Men and Women from the Waldstetten.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
A high rocky shore of the Lake of Lucerne opposite Schwytz. The lake
makes a bend into the land; a hut stands at a short distance from the
shore; the fisher boy is rowing about in his boat. Beyond the lake are
seen the green meadows, the hamlets and farms of Schwytz, lying in the
clear sunshine. On the left are observed the peaks of The Hacken,
surrounded with clouds; to the right, and in the remote distance,
appear the Glaciers. The Ranz des Vaches, and the tinkling of cattle
bells, continue for some time after the rising of the curtain.
FISHER BOY (sings in his boat) Melody of the Ranz des Vaches
The smile-dimpled lake woo'd to bathe in its deep,
A boy on its green shore had laid him to sleep;
Then heard he a melody
Floating along,
Sweet as the notes
Of an angel's song.
And as thrilling with pleasure he wakes from his rest,
The waters are rippling over his breast;
And a voice from the deep cries,
"With me thou must go,
I charm the young shepherd,
I lure him below."
HERDSMAN (on the mountains) Air.--Variation of the Ranz des Vaches
Farewell, ye green meadows,
Farewell, sunny shore,
The herdsman must leave you,
The summer is o'er.
We go to the hills, but you'll see us again,
When the cuckoo calls, and the merry birds sing,
When the flowers bloom afresh in glade and in glen,
And the brooks sparkle bright in the sunshine of Spring.
Farewell, ye green meadows,
Farewell, sunny shore,
The herdsman must leave you,
The summer is o'er.
CHAMOIS HUNTER (appearing on the top of a cliff) Second Variation of
the Ranz des Vaches
On the heights peals the thunder, and trembles the bridge,
The huntsman bounds on by the dizzying ridge.
Undaunted he hies him
O'er ice-covered wild,
Where leaf never budded,
Nor Spring ever smiled;
And beneath him an ocean of mist, where his eye
No longer the dwellings of man can espy;
Through the parting clouds only
The earth can be seen,
Far down 'neath the vapour
The meadows of green.
[A change comes over the landscape. A rumbling, cracking noise is
heard among the mountains. Shadows of clouds sweep across the scene.
Ruodi, the fisherman, comes out of his cottage.
Werni, the huntsman, descends from the rocks.
Kuoni, the shepherd, enters, with a milkpail on his shoulders, followed
by Seppi, his assistant.]
RUODI.
Come, Jenni, bustle; get the boat on shore.
The grizzly Vale-King[*] comes, the Glaciers moan,
The Mytenstein[+] is drawing on his hood,
And from the Stormcleft chilly blows the wind;
The storm will burst before we know what's what.
[*] The German is, Thalvogt, Ruler of the Valley--the name given
figuratively to a dense grey mist which the south wind sweeps into
the valleys from the mountain tops. It is well known as the
precursor of stormy weather.
[+] A steep rock, standing on the north of Rutli, and nearly opposite
to Brumen.
KUONI.
'Twill rain ere long; my sheep browse eagerly,
And Watcher there is scraping up the earth.
WERNI.
The fish are leaping, and the water-hen
Keeps diving up and down. A storm is brewing.
KUONI (to his boy).
Look, Seppi, if the beasts be all in sight.
SEPPI.
There goes brown Liesel, I can hear her bells.
KUONI.
Then all are safe; she ever ranges farthest.
RUODI.
You've a fine chime of bells there, master herdsman.
WERNI.
And likely cattle, too. Are they your own?
KUONI.
I'm not so rich. They are the noble lord's
Of Attinghaus, and told off to my care.
RUODI.
How gracefully yon heifer bears her ribbon!
KUONI.
Ay, well she knows she's leader of the herd,
And, take it from her, she'd refuse to feed.
RUODI.
You're joking now. A beast devoid of reason--
WERNI.
Easily said. But beasts have reason, too,--
And that we know, we chamois-hunters, well.
They never turn to feed--sagacious creatures!
Till they have placed a sentinel ahead,
Who pricks his ears whenever we approach,
And gives alarm with clear and piercing pipe.
RUODI (to the shepherd).
Are you for home?
KUONI.
The Alp is grazed quite bare.
WERNI.
A safe return, my friend!
KUONI.
The same to you!
Men come not always back from tracks like yours.
RUODI.
But who comes here, running at topmost speed?
WERNI.
I know the man; 'tis Baumgart of Alzellen.
KONRAD BAUMGARTEN (rushing in breathless).
For God's sake, ferryman, your boat!
RUODI.
How now? Why all this haste?
BAUM.
Cast off! My life's at stake!
Set me across!
KUONI.
Why, what's the matter, friend?
WERNI.
Who are pursuing you? First tell us that.
BAUM. (to the fisherman).
Quick, quick, man, quick! they're close upon my heels!
It is the Viceroy's men are after me;
If they should overtake me, I am lost.
RUODI.
Why are the troopers in pursuit of you?
BAUM.
First make me safe and then I'll tell you all.
WERNI.
There's blood upon your garments--how is this?
BAUM.
The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg--
KUONI.
How! What! The Wolfshot?[*] Is it he pursues you?
[*] In German, Wolfenschiessen--a young man of noble family, and a
native of Unterwalden, who attached himself to the House of
Austria, and was appointed Burvogt, or Seneschal, of the Castle of
Rossberg. He was killed by Baumgarten in the manner, and for the
cause, mentioned in the text.
BAUM.
He'll ne'er hurt man again; I've settled him.
ALL (starting back).
Now, God forgive you, what is this you've done!
BAUM.
What every free man in my place had done.
Mine own good household right I have enforced
'Gainst him that would have wrong'd my wife--my honour.
KUONI.
How? Wronged you in your honour, did he so?
BAUM.
That he did not fulfil his foul desire,
Is due to God, and to my trusty axe.
WERNI.
And you have cleft his skull then with your axe?
KUONI.
O, tell us all! You've time enough, and more,
While he is getting out the boat there from the beach.
BAUM.
When I was in the forest felling timber,
My wife came running out in mortal fear.
"The Seneschal," she said, "was in my house,
Had ordered her to get a bath prepared,
And thereupon had ta'en unseemly freedoms,
From which she rid herself, and flew to me."
Arm'd as I was, I sought him, and my axe
Has given his bath a bloody benison.
WERNI.
And you did well; no man can blame the deed.
KUONI.
The tyrant! Now he has his just reward! We men of
Unterwald have owed it long.
BAUM.
The deed got wind, and now they're in pursuit.
Heavens! whilst we speak, the time is flying fast.
[It begins to thunder.]
KUONI.
Quick, ferryman, and set the good man over.
RUODI.
Impossible! a storm is close at hand,
Wait till it pass! You must.
BAUM.
Almighty heavens!
I cannot wait; the least delay is death.
KUONI (to the fisherman).
Push out--God with you!
We should help our neighbours;
The like misfortune may betide us all.
[Thunder and the roaring of the wind.]
RUODI.
The South-wind's up![*] See how the lake is rising!
I cannot steer against both wind and wave.
[*] Literally, The Fohn is loose! "When," says Muller, in his History
of Switzerland, "the wind called the Fohn is high, the navigation
of the lake becomes extremely dangerous. Such is its vehemence,
that the laws of the country require that the fires shall be
extinguished in the houses while it lasts, and the night watches
are doubled. The inhabitants lay heavy stones upon the roofs of
their houses, to prevent their being blown away."
BAUM. (clasping him by the knees).
God so help you as now you pity me!
WERNI.
His life's at stake. Have pity on him, man!
KUONI.
He is a father: has a wife and children.
[Repeated peals of thunder.]
RUODI.
What! and have I not, then, a life to lose,
A wife and child at home as well as he?
See how the breakers foam, and toss, and whirl,
And the lake eddies up from all its depths!
Right gladly would I save the worthy man,
But 'tis impossible, as you must see.
BAUM. (still kneeling).
Then must I fall into the tyrant's hands.
And with the shore of safety close in sight!
Yonder it lies! My eyes can see it clear,
My very voice can echo to its shores.
There is the boat to carry me across,
Yet must I lie here helpless and forlorn.
KUONI.
Look! who comes here?
RUODI.
'Tis Tell, ay, Tell, of Burglen.[*]
[*] Burglen, the birthplace and residence of Tell. A chapel, erected
in 1522, remains on the spot formerly occupied by his house.
[Enter Tell with a crossbow.]
TELL.
What man is he that here implores of aid?
KUONI.
He is from Alzellen, and to guard his honour
From touch of foulest shame, has slain the Wolfshot,
The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg.
The Viceroy's troopers are upon his heels;
He begs the ferryman to take him over,
But frightened at the storm he says he won't.
RUODI.
Well, there is Tell can steer as well as I.
He'll be my judge, if it be possible.
[Violent peals of thunder--the lake becomes more tempestuous.]
Am I to plunge into the jaws of hell?
I should be mad to dare the desperate act.
TELL.
The brave man thinks upon himself the last.
Put trust in God, and help him in his need!
RUODI.
Safe in the port, 'tis easy to advise.
There is the boat, and there the lake! Try you!
TELL.
The lake may pity, but the Viceroy never.
Come, risk it, man!
SHEPHERD and HUNTSMAN.
O save him! save him! save him!
RUODI.
Though 'twere my brother, or my darling child,
I would not go. 'Tis Simon and Jude's day,
The lake is up, and calling for its victim.
TELL.
Nought's to be done with idle talking here.
Each moment's precious; the man must be help'd,
Say, boatman, will you venture?
RUODI.
No; not I.
TELL.
In God's name, then, give me the boat! I will,
With my poor strength, see what is to be done!
KUONI.
Ha, gallant Tell!
WERNI.
That's like a huntsman true.
BAUM.
You are my angel, my preserver, Tell.
TELL.
I may preserve you from the Viceroy's power,
But from the tempest's rage another must.
Yet better 'tis you fall into God's hands,
Than into those of men.
[To the herdsman.]
Herdsman, do thou
Console my wife if I should come to grief.
I could not choose but do as I have done.
[He leaps into the boat.]
KUONI (to the fisherman).
A pretty man to keep a ferry, truly!
What Tell could risk, you dared not venture on.
RUODI.
Far better men would never cope with Tell.
There's no two such as he 'mong all our hills.
WERNI (who has ascended a rock).
Now he is off. God help thee, gallant sailor!
Look how the little boat reels on the waves!
There! they have swept clean over it. And now--
KUONI (on the shore).
'Tis out of sight. Yet stay, there 'tis again!
Stoutly he stems the breakers, noble fellow!
SEPPI.
Here come the troopers hard as they can ride!
KUONI.
Heavens! so they do! Why, that was help, indeed.
[Enter a troop of horsemen.]
1ST H.
Give up the murderer! You have him here!
2ND H.
This way he came! 'Tis useless to conceal him!
RUODI and KUONI.
Whom do you mean?
1ST H. (discovering the boat).
The devil! What do I see?
WERNI. (from above).
Isn't he in yonder boat ye seek? Ride on,
If you lay to, you may o'ertake him yet.
2ND H.
Curse on you, he's escaped!
1ST H. (to the shepherd and fisherman).
You help'd him off,
And you shall pay for it! Fall on their herds!
Down with the cottage! burn it! beat it down!
[They rush off.]
SEPPI (hurrying after them).
Oh, my poor lambs!
KUONI (following him).
Unhappy me, my herds!
WERNI.
The tyrants!
RUODI (wringing his hands).
Righteous Heaven! Oh, when will come
Deliverance to this doom-devoted land?
[Exeunt severally.]
SCENE II.
A lime tree in front of Stauffacher's house at Steinen, in Schwytz,
upon the public road, near a bridge.
Werner Stauffacher and Pfeiffer, of Lucerne, enter into conversation.
PFEIFF.
Ay, ay, friend Stauffacher, as I have said,
Swear not to Austria, if you can help it.
Hold by the Empire stoutly as of yore,
And God preserve you in your ancient freedom!
[Presses his hand warmly, and is going.]
STAUFF.
Wait till my mistress comes. Now do! You are
My guest in Schwytz--I in Lucerne am yours.
PFEIFF.
Thanks! thanks! But I must reach Gersau to-day.
Whatever grievances your rulers' pride
And grasping avarice may yet inflict,
Bear them in patience--soon a change may come.
Another emperor may mount the throne.
But Austria's once, and you are hers for ever.
[Exit.]
[Stauffacher sits down sorrowfully upon a bench under the lime tree.
Gertrude, his wife, enters, and finds him in this posture. She places
herself near him, and looks at him for some time in silence.]
GERT.
So sad, my love! I scarcely know thee now.
For many a day in silence I have mark'd
A moody sorrow furrowing thy brow.
Some silent grief is weighing on thy heart.
Trust it to me. I am thy faithful wife,
And I demand my half of all thy cares.
[Stauffacher gives her his hand and is silent.]
Tell me what can oppress thy spirits thus?
Thy toil is blest--the world goes well with thee--
Our barns are full--our cattle, many a score;
Our handsome team of well-fed horses, too,
Brought from the mountain pastures safely home,
To winter in their comfortable stalls.
There stands thy house--no nobleman's more fair!
'Tis newly built with timber of the best,
All grooved and fitted with the nicest skill;
Its many glistening windows tell of comfort!
'Tis quarter'd o'er with' scutcheons of all hues,
And proverbs sage, which passing travellers
Linger to read, and ponder o'er their meaning.
STAUFF.
The house is strongly built, and handsomely,
But, ah! the ground on which we built it quakes.
GERT.
Tell me, dear Werner, what you mean by that?
STAUFF.
No later gone than yesterday, I sat
Beneath this linden, thinking with delight,
How fairly all was finished, when from Kussnacht
The Viceroy and his men came riding by.
Before this house he halted in surprise:
At once I rose, and, as beseemed his rank,
Advanced respectfully to greet the lord,
To whom the Emperor delegates his power,
As judge supreme within our Canton here.
"Who is the owner of this house?" he asked,
With mischief in his thoughts, for well he knew.
With prompt decision, thus I answered him:
"The Emperor, your grace--my lord and yours,
And held by me in fief." On this he answered,
"I am the Emperor's viceregent here,
And will not that each peasant churl should build
At his own pleasure, bearing him as freely
As though he were the master in the land.
I shall make bold to put a stop to this!"
So saying, he, with menaces, rode off,
And left me musing with a heavy heart
On the fell purpose that his words betray'd.
GERT.
My own dear lord and husband! Wilt thou take
A word of honest counsel from thy wife?
I boast to be the noble Iberg's child,
A man of wide experience. Many a time,
As we sat spinning in the winter nights,
My sisters and myself, the people's chiefs
Were wont to gather round our father's hearth,
To read the old imperial charters, and
To hold sage converse on the country's weal.
Then heedfully I listened, marking well
What now the wise man thought, the good man wished,
And garner'd up their wisdom in my heart.
Hear then, and mark me well; for thou wilt see,
I long have known the grief that weighs thee down.
The Viceroy hates thee, fain would injure thee,
For thou hast cross'd his wish to bend the Swiss
In homage to this upstart house of princes,
And kept them staunch, like their good sires of old,
In true allegiance to the Empire. Say,
Is't not so, Werner? Tell me, am I wrong?
STAUFF.
'Tis even so. For this doth Gessler hate me.
GERT.
He burns with envy, too, to see thee living
Happy and free on thine ancestral soil,
For he is landless. From the Emperor's self
Thou hold'st in fief the lands thy fathers left thee.
There's not a prince i' the Empire that can show
A better title to his heritage;
For thou hast over thee no lord but one,
And he the mightiest of all Christian kings.
Gessler, we know, is but a younger son,
His only wealth the knightly cloak he wears;
He therefore views an honest man's good fortune
With a malignant and a jealous eye.
Long has he sworn to compass thy destruction.
As yet thou art uninjured. Wilt thou wait
Till he may safely give his malice vent?
A wise man would anticipate the blow.
STAUFF.
What's to be done?
GERT.
Now hear what I advise.
Thou knowest well, how here with us in Schwytz
All worthy men are groaning underneath
This Gessler's grasping, grinding tyranny.
Doubt not the men of Unterwald as well,
And Uri, too, are chafing like ourselves,
At this oppressive and heart-wearying yoke.
For there, across the lake, the Landenberg
Wields the same iron rule as Gessler here--
No fishing-boat comes over to our side,
But brings the tidings of some new encroachment,
Some fresh outrage, more grievous than the last.
Then it were well, that some of you--true men--
Men sound at heart, should secretly devise,
How best to shake this hateful thraldom off.
Full sure I am that God would not desert you,
But lend His favour to the righteous cause.
Has thou no friend in Uri, one to whom
Thou frankly may'st unbosom all thy thoughts?
STAUFF.
I know full many a gallant fellow there,
And nobles, too,--great men, of high repute,
In whom I can repose unbounded trust.
[Rising.]
Wife! What a storm of wild and perilous thoughts
Hast thou stirr'd up within my tranquil breast!
The darkest musings of my bosom thou
Hast dragg'd to light, and placed them full before me;
And what I scarce dared harbour e'en in thought,
Thou speakest plainly out with fearless tongue.
But hast thou weigh'd well what thou urgest thus?
Discord will come, and the fierce clang of arms,
To scare this valley's long unbroken peace,
If we, a feeble shepherd race, shall dare
Him to the fight, that lords it o'er the world.
Ev'n now they only wait some fair pretext
For setting loose their savage warrior hordes,
To scourge and ravage this devoted land,
To lord it o'er us with the victor's rights,
And, 'neath the show of lawful chastisement,
Despoil us of our chartered liberties.
GERT.
You, too are men; can wield a battle axe
As well as they. God ne'er deserts the brave.
STAUFF.
Oh wife! a horrid, ruthless fiend is war,
That smites at once the shepherd and his flock.
GERT.
Whate'er great Heaven inflicts, we must endure;
But wrong is what no noble heart will bear.
STAUFF.
This house--thy pride--war, unrelenting war
Will burn it down.
GERT.
And did I think this heart
Enslaved and fettered to the things of earth,
With my own hand I'd hurl the kindling torch.
STAUFF.
Thou hast faith in human kindness, wife; but war
Spares not the tender infant in its cradle.
GERT.
There is a Friend to innocence in heaven.
Send your gaze forward, Werner--not behind.
STAUFF.
We men may die like men, with sword in hand;
But oh, what fate, my Gertrude, may be thine?
GERT.
None are so weak, but one last choice is left.
A spring from yonder bridge and I am free!
STAUFF. (embracing her).
Well may he fight for hearth and home, that clasps
A heart so rare as thine against his own!
What are the host of emperors to him?
Gertrude, farewell! I will to Uri straight.
There lives my worthy comrade, Walter Furst;
His thoughts and mine upon these times are one.
There, too, resides the noble Banneret
Of Attinghaus. High though of blood he be,
He loves the people, honours their old customs.
With both of these I will take counsel, how
To rid us bravely of our country's foe.
Farewell! and while I am away, bear thou
A watchful eye in management at home.
The pilgrim journeying to the house of God,
And holy friar, collecting for his cloister,
To these give liberally from purse and garner.
Stauffacher's house would not be hid. Right out
Upon the public way it stands, and offers
To all that pass a hospitable roof.
[While they are retiring, Tell enters with Baumgarten.]
TELL.
Now, then, you have no further need of me.
Enter yon house. 'Tis Werner Stauffacher's,
A man that is a father to distress.
See, there he is, himself! Come, follow me.
[They retire up. Scene changes.]
SCENE III.
A common near Altdorf. On an eminence in the background a castle in
progress of erection, and so far advanced that the outline of the
whole may be distinguished. The back part is finished: men are working
at the front. Scaffolding, on which the workmen are going up and down.
A slater is seen upon the highest part of the roof. All is bustle and
activity.
Taskmaster, Mason, Workmen and Labourers.
TASK. (with a stick, urging on the workmen).
Up, up!
You've rested long enough. To work!
The stones here! Now the mortar, and the lime!
And let his lordship see the work advanced,
When next he comes. These fellows crawl like snails!
[To two labourers, with loads.]
What! call ye that a load? Go, double it.
Is this the way ye earn your wages, laggards?
1ST W.
'Tis very hard that we must bear the stones,
To make a keep and dungeon for ourselves!
TASK.
What's that you mutter? 'Tis a worthless race,
For nothing fit but just to milk their cows,
And saunter idly up and down the hills.
OLD MAN (sinks down exhausted).
I can no more.
TASK. (shaking him).
Up, up, old man, to work!
1ST W.
Have you no bowels of compassion, thus
To press so hard upon a poor old man,
That scarce can drag his feeble limbs along?
MASTER MASON and WORKMEN.
Shame, shame upon you--shame! It cries to heaven.
TASK.
Mind your own business. I but do my duty.
1ST W.
Pray, master, what's to be the name of this
Same castle, when 'tis built?
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