From this sad state of weakness. If she love him,
She'll make him happier far than I could do;
And if she love him not, there is good cause
That I should pity him; not selfishly
On my own misery dwell.—Ay, this should be;
But will it be?—Oh, these rebellious tears!
(Covering her face with her hands, and throwing herself back in her chair, in a state of abandonment).
Enter, by the other end of the chamber, the Phantom of a beautiful young Woman, which advances a few paces, and then remains still.
ALICE (raising her face).
That thou art here, unlook'd for at this hour,
So many miles from home? Alas! that face
Of ghastly paleness, and that alter'd look
Of sad solemnity!—Speak to me quickly;
I dare approach no nearer, till I hear
Words of thy natural voice. Art thou alive?
PHANTOM.
