Melchthal monologue (Act 2) — Wilhelm Tell

Yet wept I not! No--not in weak and unavailing tears Spent I the force of my fierce, burning anguish; Deep in my bosom, like some precious treasure, I locked it fast, and thought on deeds alone. Through every winding of the hills I crept-- No valley so remote but I explored it; Nay, even at the glacier's ice-clad base, I sought and found the homes of living men; And still, where'er my wandering footsteps turned, The self-same hatred of these tyrants met me. For even there, at vegetation's verge, Where the numbed earth is barren of all fruits, There grasping hands had been stretched forth for plunder. Into the hearts of all this honest race, The story of my wrongs struck deep, and now They to a man are ours; both heart and hand. Great things, indeed, you've wrought in little time.