sunk into a wonderful dream? Is this
which I see an illusion? Or have I until this moment lived in a
world of dream, and is this the day of awakening? He stands before
me, his features stamped with sorrow. His unparalleled sufferings
silently call to me. Can the voice of deepest pity deceive? As
I have so often beheld him he stands before me now. This sorrow
which burns within my bosom, this going out of desire toward him,
what must I call it? Oh, that the salvation which he goes seeking
without rest might reach the unhappy man through me!"

He moves a little nearer to her at last, and asks with the simplicity
and sincerity which befit the hour so fraught with fate, "Will you
not reject your father's choice? That which he promised--what?
shall it hold good? Could you forever give yourself to me? You
could hold out your hand to the stranger? I might, after a life of
torment, find in your truth the long craved-for peace?" She answers
upon the instant, singularly sure of her heart: "Whoever you may be,
and whatever ruin your cruel fate reserve for you, and whatever
the destiny I thereby call upon myself, my obedient duty shall ever
be to my father's wish."--"What, so unconditionally? My sorrows,
is it possible, have moved you to such deep compassion?"--"Sorrows
how measureless!" she exclaims to herself. "Oh, might I bring you
consolation for those!" And he, overhearing: "Oh, gentlest sound
through the warring darkness! An angel are you! The love of an angel
can still the pain even of lost souls! If I may hope for salvation,
Almighty, let it be through this angel!" But in the uplift of hope
reviving, a remembrance gives him pause,--remembrance of the whole
condition of his deliverance; and, a strain of solemnity mingling
with his grateful tenderness, he warns her: "Could you apprehend
the fate which, in belonging to me, with me you must share, you
would pause to consider the sacrifice you bring in vowing to be
true. Your youth would flee shuddering at prospect of the fate to
which you would have doomed it, if the fairest virtues of womankind,
if sacred fidelity and truth, be not yours." She replies with no
less assurance than before, and her air of exalted inspiration:
"Well do I know the high duties of woman. Be comforted, unhappy man!
Let fate do justice of those who defy her decree. In my soul is
written the supreme law of truth, and unto him to whom I pledge my
faith this one truth it is which I give: Truth until death