_King_. Stay! Let not a poisoned word pollute this moment, for now at last the riddling clouds of fate prepare to fall. I may slip the fetters from my body, which weakness, shame, unwilling gratitude, sorrow, and mistaken kindnesses, combined to weave about me. I dare to speak, for now the sword has freed me.... For that I have shrunk from thee, my wife, forgive me. Didst thou know how shudderingly I sent myself into an exile of inexpiable guilt! From thence I now return, love-empty; and still the harmony of thy grace, the breath of thy self-forgetful love, wafts like a summer breeze about my head, heavy with blessings. Yes, if I dared to stay, how much of all I have ... Hush!... I know not the path that I must choose. I only know the end. I only know that faint and far away there sounds a voice reproaching my delay. It calls me back into the eternal gray,--that boundless country where thy blessing ends, where no guiding star rises to lead me on. Farewell. Forgive me if thou canst. If not ... I know no word to say that can lift the load of guilt from off my soul.... I must endure and bear it with me silently. _Queen_. Nay, my friend.... If thou hast laden thy life with guilt so heavily, then must thou give me of thy burden a share to bear. I think that all we leave unspoken to-day will burn our souls forever; and therefore I make free confession: I have failed thee sorely. I saw thy misery, I saw the torture growing on thy pale brow, and yet I had but one thought; one alone; how to beguile him from that path on which his soul delays and hesitates, but whither his stumbling feet turn of themselves,--that he might leave me never again, whether in love or hate ... this was my thought ... and as a bridal pair stand at the altar and exchange their rings, while the deep church-bells lull them into a smiling dream, so we in parting near each other, and offer, smiling, guilt for guilt. [_She reaches out her hand to him with a faint smile, and sinks back into the arms of her women._] _King_ [_kissing her hand, overcome with feeling_]. I thank thee. _The Young Prince_ [_timidly_]. Papa! _King_ [_recovering himself_]. Thou too, my son! Come here! I made thee poor return--and had he not [_motioning toward_ Hans] known me better than I myself ... give him thy hand; for thanks to him, I lay down undefiled this borrowed sword. [_Gives the sword over to the_ Chancellor.] Hans! _Hans Lorbass_. Here, master! [_He hands the_ King _his old sword, which he seizes eagerly._] _King_. Farewell. ACT V. _The scene of the first act. Early spring. March. The trees and bushes are still bare, but tipped with the delicate red of young leaf-buds. In the background, upon the slopes, is still snow, in the foreground fresh young grass. The church-yard has grown larger. The crosses and headboards reach back to the sand-hills. Sun-set. A blue haze hangs over the sea._ Scene I.