SCENE II.
A small Glade in the Wood, surrounded with high Fern and Bushes.
Enter Charville.
CHARVILLE (after walking with hasty disturbed steps to the front of the stage, stops short, and continues musing for some time before he speaks).
She will think of all this when it is too late: it will embitter her days; she will then bear her torment in secret. She will know I have loved her; she will know it then. The time runs on; it should be done. O that it were done! But the doing of it is a fearful effort. (Fulls out a pistol, and looks at it ruefully.) Is there no way of getting rid of this hateful world but by this miserable act of self-destruction? O that some friendly hand would rid me of my wretched life! I cannot do it. (Throws away the pistol, which Sancho, bursting from the fern, &c. takes up, and runs fiercely at him, presenting it to his head.)
SANCHO.
CHARVILLE.
