r's womb.

Clara. Hush, Brackenburg! Be still! Let this veil rest upon my soul. The
spectres are vanished; and thou, gentle night, lend thy mantle to the
inwardly fermenting earth, she will no longer endure the loathsome
burden, shuddering, she rends open her yawning chasms, and with a crash
swallows the murderous scaffold. And that God, whom in their rage they
have insulted, sends down His angel from on high; at the hallowed touch
of the messenger bolts and bars fly back; he pours around our friend
a mild radiance, and leads him gently through the night to liberty. My
path leads also through the darkness to meet him.

Brackenburg (detaining her). My child, whither wouldst thou go? What
wouldst thou do?

Clara. Softly, my friend, lest some one should awake! Lest we should
awake ourselves! Know'st thou this phial, Brackenburg? I took it from
thee once in jest, when thou, as was thy wont, didst threaten, in thy
impatience, to end thy days.--And now my friend--

Brackenburg. In the name of all the saints!

Clara. Thou canst not hinder me. Death is my portion! Grudge me not
the quiet and easy death which thou hadst prepared for thyself. Give
me thine hand!--At the moment when I unclose that dismal portal through
which there is no return, I may tell thee, with this pressure of the
hand, how sincerely I have loved, how deeply I have pitied thee. My
brother died young; I chose thee to fill his place; thy heart rebelled,
thou didst torment thyself and me, demanding with ever increasing
fervour that which fate had not destined for thee. Forgive me and
farewell! Let me call thee brother! 'Tis a name that embraces many
names. Receive, with a true heart, the last fair token of the departing
spirit--take this kiss. Death unites all, Brackenburg--us too it will
unite!

Brackenburg. Let me then die with thee! Share it! oh, share it! There is
enough to extinguish two lives.

Clara. Hold! Thou must live, thou canst live.--Support my Mother, who,
without thee, would be a prey to want. Be to her what I can no longer
be, live together, and weep for me. Weep for our fatherland, and for him
who could alone have upheld it. The present generation must still endure
this bitter woe; vengeance itself could not obliterate it. Poor souls,
live on, through this gap in time, which is time no longer. To-day the
world suddenly stands still, its course is arrested, and my pulse will
beat but for a few minutes longer. Farewell.

Brackenburg. Oh