nothing more...."

He seemed about to throw himself into her arms, but on the contrary he
flung himself backwards, as though he were frightened by her brilliant
attire; his head dropped nervelessly on his chest, his arms fell loosely
down. She saw his movement: her first feeling was one of regret that she
had come to him in court-dress, longing as she did to see him, not
allowing herself the time to change. But this regret passed through her
as a transient emotion, for it was followed by an intense dizziness, as
though a yawning abyss opened at her feet, as though the earth retreated
and black nothingness gaped before her. A despair as of utter impotence
enveloped her soul. Vaguely she stretched out her arms and threw them
round his neck, as though she were groping in the dark, with wandering
eyes:

"My boy, don't talk like that any more, because ... when you talk like
that, you take away my strength too!" she whispered, in alarm. "For how
can it be helped? You must, we all must...."

"Forgive me, mamma, but I ... I shall not be able to. Oh, I see it
clearly now! I am not excited, I am calm. I see it, I prophesy it, it
can never be...."

"But papa is still so young and so strong, my boy; and, when you grow
older...."

"The older I grow, the more impossible it will be, mamma. I was always
frightened of it as a child, but I never realized it so desperately as
now. No, mamma, it cannot be. Now that I am ill, I have plenty of time
to reflect; and I now see before me what the end of all our trouble is
bound to be...."

His eyes gazed at the floor in despair; she still half-clung to him,
helplessly; a menacing shiver seemed to float through the room.

"Mamma...."

She made no response.

"I must tell you of my resolve...."

"What resolve?..."

"Will you tell it to papa?"

"What, what, Othomar ... my boy?"

"That I can't marry ... Valerie, because...."

"Later, later: you needn't marry yet...."

"No, mamma, I never can, because I...."

She looked at him beseechingly, enquiringly.

"Because I want to abdicate ... my rights ... in favour of ...
Berengar...."

She made no reply; feebly she drooped against him, not knowing how to
console and cheer him, and softly and plaintively began to sob. It was
as though her soul was being flooded with anguish, slowly but
persistently, until it brimmed over. She reproached herself with it all.
He was her child: the future Emperor of Liparia had derived this
weakness