The third act followed immediately upon the heels of the preceding, and broke up, by the uninterrupted continuance of the artistic enchantment, which should belong to every play and every work of art that is to be read, all cold, prosaic astonishment, even that which arose from the wonderful speaking of the jay on the lake. A great, beautiful, proud lady appeared,--Athenais (personated by the merchant's wife, Roquairol's by-mistress), full of hope in her old friend Lilia, who called herself "the little Athenais," and, sweetly dreaming over the dream of former days, Lilia sinks into her arms with twofold tears; Athenais does indeed bear in her hand three heavens and three hells. "How beautiful thou returnest! My poor brother!" said Lilia softly. "Name him not," said she proudly, "he can die for me, but I cannot live for him." Here Carlos flies in to his Lilia,--stops and stiffens in his flight,--collects himself, and approaches Lilia. She says, "Count Salera,--Athenais--" He grew pale, she red. A constraining, painful confusion entangled them all three; every honey drop was taken from a thorn-hedge. Lilia, with a shudder, is made more and more strongly aware of Athenais's sudden victory over her fortune and love. Athenais went away. The two lovers look upon each other for a long time with trembling. "Am I right?" asked Lilia. "Am I in fault?" said Carlos. "No," said she, "for thou art a mortal, and, what is still worse, a man." "What shall I do, then?" replied Carlos. "Thou shalt," said she, solemnly, "after one year go into a garden on a hill, and look around thee and seek me in the garden,--in the garden--under the beds,--deep below one,--I know not how deep." She hastened away, as if frantic, and sang, "All over, all over with loving and living!" Carlos stood some minutes with his wild look on the ground, and said, in a low, hollow tone, "God, it is thy work!" and went off,--met his friend, who called out impetuously and joyfully, "She is here!" but he hastened on proudly, and only called back, "Not now, Hiort!" To him came Lilia, weeping, and led him onward. "Come," said she, "do not look upon the tomb; we are both too unhappy."