will aim—unless I should, before that, deal myself death for very shame. And the curse of a patricide will visit you with its worst consequences—it will pursue you not like death but like a thousand deaths.—Will you do my will or no—will you expose me to the mockery of all people even of my murderers in this hotbed of slavery?
Jeroným.—Alas! my honor! Oh, my happiness and dreams—how you crumble into dust! Is there no escape for me? Is there no way out?
Výrava.—None, unless in the fulfillment of your father’s will.
Jeroným (Evincing the greatest inner struggle).—I shall become an infamous betrayer—
Výrava.— —the avenger of your father and the pride of the people to whom you belong.
Jeroným.—Here contempt—there a curse
Výrava.— —and the affection of a father who loves you above the whole world, even more than his own salvation.
Jeroným.—Father, father, have compassion!
Výrava.—Have one spark of love for me! My son, I entreat you, (kneels) on my knees I entreat you.
Jeroným.—Father—father! . . . (To himself.) Well, then, good-bye, good-bye to my past, good-bye to my dreams—my bliss, angelic being—good-bye, my honor!
Výrava.—Will you go? (Rises).
Jeroným.—I will go—(To himself) to find my death in the first shot that is fired.
Výrava.—O my son, how eternally happy you have made me. Come, oh, come, to the revenge of your father, come to your glory and to that of your people!
Jeroným.—I shall go,—I shall go, at once. (To himself.) Only a few lines of parting and my dearest keepsakes in my bosom!
Výrava.—Will you leap down? I will help you.
Jeroným.—I shall follow you in a moment.
Výrava.—Why do you delay?
Jeroným.—I wish, only to take with me a ringlet of mother’s hair—which you gave me when she pressed me to her heart for the last time before her death. (To himself.) And also Sylvia’s handkerchief which she dropped when first our eyes met.
Výrava.—I shall wait for you.
Jeroným.—Every instant can betray you and cast you to destruction.
