It cannot take away the grace of life,—
Its comeliness of look that virtue gives,—
Its port erect with consciousness of truth,—
Its rich attire of honorable deeds,—
Its fair report that's rife on good men's tongues:
It cannot lay its hands on these, no more
Than it can pluck his brightness from the sun,
Or with polluted finger tarnish it."
The capacities of parental and filial affection in tragic pathos are wrought up by Knowles in the last two acts with consummate and unrelenting skill. The varied interest and suspense of the dialogue and action between Tell and Albert are harrowing, as, neither knowing that the other is in the power of Gesler, they are suddenly brought together. Instinct teaches them to appear as strangers. The struggle to suppress their feelings and play their part under the imminent danger is followed with painful excitement as the plot thickens and the dread catastrophe seems hurrying. Tell, ordered to instant execution, seeks to speak a few last words to his son, under the pretext of sending a farewell message to his Albert by the stranger boy. In a voice whose condensed and tremulous murmuring betrays all the crucified tenderness it refuses to express, he says,—
"Thou dost not know me, boy; and well for thee