Tell. I told thee in the mountains. Ges. How lies it-north or south? Tell. Nor north, nor south. Ges. Is't to the east or west, then? concerns thee not. Ges. It does. Tell. And if it does, thou shalt not learn. Ges. Art married? Tell. Yes. Ges. And hast a family? Tell. A son. Ges. A son! Sarnem ! Sar. My lord, the boy! (Exit Sarnem.) Tell. The boy! what boy? Is't mine? - and have they netted my young fledgeling? Would put him on his guard—yet how to give it! Now, heart, thy nerve: forget thou'rt flesh-be rock, They come-they come ! That step-that step-that little step, so light Upon the ground, how heavy does it fall Upon my heart! I feel my child! — 'Tis he! We can but perish. [Enter Sarnem with Albert, who's eyes are rivetted on Tell's bow,, which Sarnem carries.] Albert. (Aside.) 'Tis my father's bow, For there's my father. I'll not own him, though. Sar. See! Alb. What? Sar. Look there. S Alb. I do; what would you have Me see? Sar. Thy father. Alb. That is not my father! Tell. My boy-my boy! my own brave boy! He's safe! Sar. They're like each other. Ges. Yet I see no sign Of recognition to betray the link Unites a father and his child. Sar. My lord, I'm sure it is his father. Look at them: And catch from her her stern and solemn look, Ges. We shall try. Lead forth the caitiff. Sar. To a dungeon? Ges. No: Into the court. Sar. The court, my lord. Ges. And send To tell the headsman to make ready. Quick! The slave shall die! You mark'd the boy? He started -'tis his father. Ges. We shall see. Away with him! Tell. Stop!-stay! Ges. What would you? Tell. Time A little time, to call my thoughts together. Ges. Thou shalt not have a minute. Tell. Some one, then, He were, art thou so lost to nature as To send me forth to die before his face? Ges. Well, speak with him. Now, Sarnem, mark them well. Tell. Thou dost not know me, boy; and well for thee Thou dost not. I'm the father of a son About thy age: I dare not tell thee where To find him, lest he should be found of those And say I laid my hand upon thy head, And said to thee if he were here, as thou art, Thus would I bless him: Mayst thou live, my boy, As I do! Sar. Mark:- He weeps. Tell. Were he my son, He would not shed a tear: he would remember Bestow'd the brightest gem that graces life, Sar. He falters. Tell 'Tis too much! And yet it must be done! I'd talk to him Tell. The mother, tyrant, thou dost make I'd bid him tell her, next to liberty, Her name was the last words my lips pronounced: To love and cherish her, as he would have Sar. You see, as he doth prompt, the other acts. That, like the chamois, he flings behind him Sar. Was there not all the father in that look? Ges. Yet 'tis against nature. Sar. Not if he believes To own the son would be to make him share The father's death. Ges. I did not think of that. I thank thee, Sarnem, for the thought. 'Tis well To die along with thee. Tell. To die! For what? Ges. For having brav'd my power, as thou hast. Lead Them forth. Tell. He's but a child. Ges. Away with them! Tell. Perhaps an only child. Ges. No matter. Tell. He May have a mother. Ges. So the viper hath; And yet who spares it for the mother's sake? To flesh- to softest, kindliest flesh, as e'er No more. Come, my boy I taught thee how to live - I'll show thee how Ges. He is thy child? Tell. He is my child! Ges. I've wrung Tell. My name? : tear from him! Thy name? Ges. What! he so fam'd 'bove all his countrymen For guiding o'er the stormy lake the boat? And such a master of his bow, 'tis said His arrows never miss! - Indeed - I'll take Exquisite vengeance! - Mark! I'll spare thy life, |