WIFE. God be thanked that the ceremony is so soon to be completed, and that our little George will be made an entire Christian; for although he has been already baptized with water, it always seems to me as if he were wanting something. She goes to the cradle. Sleep, darling, sleep! Art thou dreaming, that thou thus tossest about thy white arms, and sufferest no covering to remain around thee? So now--that will keep thee warm--lie so! How very restless my baby is to-day! What can be the matter with him? My darling! my beautiful! sleep! sleep! THE MAN (_aside_). How hot and sultry it grows! A storm is rising; will not the lightning flash from heaven, and strike me to the heart! WIFE. Neither yesterday, nor to-day, nor for the last week--O God! it is now almost a whole month since you have, of your own accord, addressed a single word to me--and every one says I am growing so pale and thin! THE MAN (_aside_). The hour is here--nothing can delay it longer. (To his wife.) Indeed, on the contrary, I think you are looking remarkably well. WIFE. Alas! it is a matter of perfect indifference to you; you never even see me! When I come near you, Henry, you turn your head away; and if I sit down beside you, you cover your face with your hands. I went to confession yesterday, and carefully thought overall my faults and follies--but I could not remember in what way I had so grievously offended you. THE MAN. You have not offended me. WIFE. O God! My God! THE MAN. I feel it is my duty to love you. WIFE. You kill me with the words _my duty_! Rather say at once, _I do not love you_--then I would at least know all--the worst! She runs to the cradle, and holds up the child. Forsake him not--your son! Let all your anger fall on me alone--love my child! my child! Henry! She kneels before him with the infant in her arms. THE MAN (_raising her gently from the ground_). Think not of what I have said. Gloomy moments sometimes come upon me, confusion--faintness-- WIFE. But one word more, I implore! one promise, Henry! that you will never cease to love him! THE MAN. Neither him, nor you--both shall be dear to me--believe me, Mary! He kisses her brow, she embraces him. At that moment a loud clap of thunder is heard, followed by strains of music--the chords grow ever wilder and more wild. WIFE. Hark! What is that? She presses the child closely to her bosom. The music ceases. THE MAIDEN (_entering_). O my beloved, I bring thee joy and peace: come, follow me! Throw off the earthly fetters which enchain, thee, O my love, and follow me! I have sought thee from a new world of endless bliss, in which night never comes--ah! I am only thine! WIFE. Save me, holy Mother of God! This ghost is ghastly pale--its eyes are dying out--its voice is hollow as the rolling of the death-hearse with the corpse! THE MAN. Thy white brow glitters; thy fair head is wreathed with flowers, O beloved!