BELCREDI. Or even more than a little! She said so herself! HENRY IV. (_to the Marchioness, continuing_). And even, shall we say, a little remorse!... BELCREDI. Yes, that too she has admitted. DONNA MATILDA (_angry_). Now look here.... HENRY IV. (_quickly, to placate her_). Don't bother about him! Don't mind him! Let him go on infuriating me--though the doctor's told him not to. (_Turns to Belcredi._): But do you suppose I am going to trouble myself any more about what happened between us--the share you had in my misfortune with her (_indicates the Marchioness to him and, pointing Belcredi out to her_): the part he has now in your life? This is my life! Quite a different thing from your life! Your life, the life in which you have grown old--I have not lived that life (_to Donna Matilda_). Was this what you wanted to show me with this sacrifice of yours, dressing yourself up like this, according to the Doctor's idea? Excellently done, doctor! Oh, an excellent idea:--"As we were then, eh? and as we are now?" But I am not a madman according to your way of thinking, doctor. I know very well that that man there (_indicates Di Nolli_) cannot be me; because I am Henry IV., and have been, these twenty years, cast in this eternal masquerade. She has lived these years (_indicates the Marchioness_)! She has enjoyed them and has become--look at her!--a woman I can no longer recognize. It is so that I knew her (_points to Frida and draws near her_)! This is the Marchioness I know, always this one!... You seem a lot of children to be so easily frightened by me.... (_To Frida_): And you're frightened too, little girl, aren't you, by the jest that they made you take part in--though they didn't understand it wouldn't be the jest they meant it to be, for me? Oh miracle of miracles! Prodigy of prodigies! The dream alive in you! More than alive in you! It was an image that wavered there and they've made you come to life! Oh, mine! You're mine, mine, mine, in my own right! (_He holds her in his arms, laughing like a madman, while all stand still terrified. Then as they advance to tear Frida from his arms, he becomes furious, terrible and cries imperiously to his valets_): Hold them! Hold them! I order you to hold them! (_The four young men amazed, yet fascinated, move to execute his orders, automatically, and seize Di Nolli, the doctor, and Belcredi._) BELCREDI (_freeing himself_). Leave her alone! Leave her alone! You're no madman! HENRY IV. (_In a flash draws the sword from the side of Landolph, who is close to him_). I'm not mad, eh! Take that, you!... (_Drives sword into him. A cry of horror goes up. All rush over to assist Belcredi, crying out together_): DI NOLLI. Has he wounded you?