Listen! She seems to live aagin, And the distant public by its bravos fills her bliss. ANTONIA. Mother! GHOST. Antonia! MIRACLE. Join with her. ANTONIA. Yes, her soul calls me As before; 'Tis my mother, 'tis she I hear her voice. THE GHOST. Dear child whom I call As I used to do; 'Tis your mother, 'tis she; List to her voice. ANTONIA. No, enough, I cannot! MIRACLE. Again. ANTONIA. I will sing no more. MIRACLE. Again. ANTONIA. What ardor draws and devours me? MIRACLE. Again! Why stop? ANTONIA (out of breath). I give way to a transport that maddens, What flame is it dazzles my eyes A single moment to live, And my soul flies to Heaven. THE GHOST. Dear child whom I call, etc., etc. ANTONIA. 'Tis my mother, 'tis she, etc., etc. ANTONIA. Ah! (She falls dying on the sofa. Miracle sinks in the earth uttering a peal of laughter.) CRESPEL (running in). My child... my daughter... Antonia!. ANTONIA (expiring). My father! Listen, 'tis my mother Who calls me. And he... has returned... 'Tis a song of love, Flies away, Sad or joyful... (She dies.) CRESPEL. No... a single word... just one... my child... speak! Come, speak! Execrable death! No! pity, mercy... go away! HOFFMAN (coming hurriedly). Why these cries? CRESPEL. Hoffman!... ah wretch! 'Tis you who killed her!... HOFFMAN (rushing to Antonia). Antonia! CRESPEL (beside himself). Blood to color her cheek. A weapon. A knife!... (He seizes a knife and attacks Hoffman.) NICKLAUSSE (entering and stopping Crespel). Unhappy man! HOFFMAN (to Nicklausse). Quick! give the alarm; A doctor... a doctor!... MIRACLE (appearing). Present! (He feels Antonia's pulse.) Dead! CRESPEL (crazy). Ah, God, my child, my daughter! HOFFMAN (despairingly). Antonia! EPILOGUE. (Same scene as First Act. The various personages are in the same positions they were in at the end of First Act.) HOFFMANN. There is the story Of my loves, And the memory In my heart will always remain. CHORUS. Bravo, bravo, Hoffmann. HOFFMANN. Ah, I am mad. For us the craze divine, The spirits of alcohol, of beer and of wine, For us intoxication, Chaos where we forget. NICKLAUSSE. Ah, I understand, three dramas in a drama, Olympia... HOFFMANN. Smashed! NICKLAUSSE. Antonia... HOFFMANN. Dead! NICKLAUSSE. Giulietta... HOFFMANN. Oh, for her, the last verse of the song of Klein-Zach. When he drank too much gin or rack, You ought to have seen the two tails at his back, Like lilies in a lac, The monster made a sound of flick flack, Flic, flac, There's Klein-Zach. CHORUS. Flick flack, There's Klein-Zach. CHORUS. Light up the punch, drunk we'll get; And may the weakest Roll under the table; Luther was a goodly man, Tire lan laire, tire lan la, etc., etc. (The students tumultuously go in the next room. Hoffmann remains as if in a stupor.)