Part 56 (1/2)

FRANCIS. By heaven, Amelia! your picture! It is, indeed.

AMELIA (returns him the picture) My picture, mine! Oh! heavens and earth!

OLD M. (screaming and tearing his face.) Woe, woe! my curse drove him into death! He fell in despair!

FRANCIS. And he thought of me in the last and parting hour--of me.

Angelic soul! When the black banner of death already waved over him he thought of me!

OLD M. (stammering like an idiot.) My curse drove him into death. In despair my son perished.

HERMANN. This is more than I can bear! Farewell, old gentleman!

(Aside to FRANCIS.) How could you have the heart to do this?

[Exit in haste.]

AMELIA (rises and rushes after him). Stay! stay! What were nis last words?

HERMANN (calling back). His last sigh was ”Amelia.”

[Exit.]

AMELIA. His last sigh was Amelia! No, thou art no impostor. It is too true--true--he is dead--dead! (staggering to and fro till she sinks down)--dead--Charles is dead!

FRANCIS. What do I see? What is this line on the sword?--written with blood--Amelia!

AMELIA. By him?

FRANCIS. Do I see clearly, or am I dreaming? Behold, in characters of blood, ”Francis, forsake not my Amelia.” And on the other side, ”Amelia, all-powerful death has released thee from thy oath.” Now do you see--do you see? With hand stiffening in death he wrote it, with his warm life's blood he wrote it--wrote it on the solemn brink of eternity. His spirit lingered in his flight to unite Francis and Amelia.

AMELIA. Gracious heaven! it is his own hand. He never loved me.

[Rushes off]

FRANCIS (stamping the ground). Confusion! her stubborn heart foils all my cunning!

OLD MOOR. Woe, woe! forsake me not, my daughter! Francis, Francis!

give me back my son!

FRANCIS. Who was it that cursed him? Who was it that drove his son into battle, and death, and despair? Oh, he was an angel, a jewel of heaven! A curse on his destroyers! A curse, a curse upon yourself!

OLD MOOR (strikes his breast and forehead with his clenched fist). He was an angel, a jewel of heaven! A curse, a curse, perdition, a curse on myself! I am the father who slew his n.o.ble son! He loved me even to death! To expiate my vengeance he rushed into battle and into death!

Monster, monster that I am! (He rages against himself.)

FRANCIS. He is gone. What avail these tardy lamentations? (with a satanic sneer.) It is easier to murder than to restore to life. You will never bring him back from his grave.

OLD Moon. Never, never, never bring him back from the grave! Gone!

lost for ever! And you it was that beguiled my heart to curse him.-- you--you--Give me back my son!

FRANCIS. Rouse not my fury, lest I forsake you even in the hour of death!

OLD MOOR. Monster! inhuman monster! Restore my son to me. (Starts from the chair and attempts to catch FRANCIS by the throat, who flings him back.)