“But he for whom that life is bought may cast the gift from him as I do, and as I also cast thee away.” “Ah, Maurico--’tis not the hour to hate. Peace and good-will, peace and good-will.” She turned deadly pale, and rocked to and fro in agony. His arms were about her in a moment. “My transient hate--my fears, were but excess of love.” “Speak on, speak on, death vainly strives against the warmth of love. I feel for thee. Speak on, oh, my Maurico. But a little, and envious death shall have his will.” “Leonora--Leonora, thou art dying!” “Ah--yes, she goes to be thy herald. Unrelenting is the poison. If ’twill let me stay near thee but for a little, little while. Ah, place my cold hand against thy trembling lips, thou knowest now my wealth of love for thee. I did mean to save thee at my life’s expense; this was the price. No more, no less.” “And _I_ fell back from thee--turned from thee. Mine eyes have fallen from my face. Leonora--look up, look up.” “I am too weak. Keep your hands about me. So let me die! Ah, ’tis well as it is.” At this moment the count came to the door to claim his bride. “Good-bye--oh, good-bye!” and she sank exhausted in his arms. Even this scene did not soften Di Luna. No reverence had he for the poor dead lady--no reverence had he for the maddened lover, straining his eyes upon the dear one’s face. The guards, who waited without, came in, and tore them asunder. “Mother,” he cried, “mother.” But she slept on unheedingly. Slept on while they bore her son away to death. Again, as he was wrenched across the threshold, he cried, “Mother.” And now, she trembled in her sleep. Again, and again, she trembled. Then with a shudder she awoke. She looked round quickly, and clasped her hands about her breast, as she no longer saw her son. Then her eyes rested on the count. With a bound she was by his side. “Thou hast stolen him--thou hast stolen while I slept.” He stood immovable, and uttered not a word. “Mercy--stay the axe--I will save him--I will save him.” And she clung, shrieking, about his feet. “Save him--nought can save him--see there.” He dragged her to the window, and she looked wildly forth. “Dead--dead--dead!” Then she turned from the window a changed woman. No tears. No horror. Smiling even a grim smile. The noble stepped back in wonder. Then he thought that she was mad. But no. Proud--erect--she stood before him.