Alb. Who? That—that my father?
Tell. My boy! my boy! my own brave boy!
He's safe! (Aside.)
Sar. (Aside to Gesler.) 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 am sure it is his father. Look at them.
That boy did spring from him; or never cast
Came from the mold it fitted! It may be
A preconcerted thing 'gainst such a chance.
That they survey each other coldly thus.
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 marked the boy?