st towards
me than your wrath.

FERDINAND. You deceive yourself. These are not nature's tears! not that
warm delicious dew which flows like balsam on the wounded soul, and
drives the chilled current of feeling swiftly along its course. They are
solitary ice-cold drops! the awful, eternal farewell of my love! (With
fearful solemnity, laying his hand on her head.) They are tears for thy
soul, Louisa! tears for the Deity, whose inexhaustible beneficence has
here missed its aim, and whose noblest work is cast away thus wantonly.
Oh methinks the whole universe should clothe itself in black, and weep at
the fearful example now passing in its centre. 'Tis but a common sorrow
when mortals fall and Paradise is lost; but, when the plague extends its
ravages to angels, then should there be wailing throughout the whole
creation!

LOUISA. Drive me not to extremities, Walter. I have fortitude equal to
most, but it must not be tried by a more than human test. Walter! one
word, and then--we part forever. A dreadful fatality has deranged the
language of our hearts. Dared I unclose these lips, Walter, I could tell
thee things! I could----But cruel fate has alike fettered my tongue and
my heart, and I must endure in silence, even though you revile me as a
common strumpet.

FERDINAND. Dost thou feel well, Louisa?

LOUISA. Why that question?

FERDINAND. It would grieve me shouldst thou be called hence with a lie
upon thy lips.

LOUISA. I implore you, Walter----

FERDINAND (in violent agitation). No! no! That revenge were too
satanic! No! God forbid! I will not extend my anger beyond the grave!
Louisa, didst thou love the marshal? Thou wilt leave this room no more!

LOUISA (sitting down). Ask what you will. I shall give no answer.

FERDINAND (in a solemn voice). Take heed for thy immortal soul! Louisa!
Didst thou love the marshal? Thou wilt leave this room no more!

LOUISA. I shall give no answer.

FERDINAND (throwing himself on his knees before her in the deepest
emotion). Louisa! Didst thou love the marshal? Before this light burns
out--thou wilt stand--before the throne of God!

LOUISA (starting from her seat in terror). Merciful Jesus! what was
that? And I feel so ill! (She falls back into her chair.)

FERDINAND. Already? Oh, woman, thou eternal paradox! thy delicate
nerves can sport with crimes at which manhood trembles; yet one poor
grain of arsenic destroys them utterly!

LOUISA. Poison! poison! Oh! Almighty God!