gladly give,—not only my life, but my right to heaven, ay, a thousand times—eagerly, joyously,—You, to suspect me of treason, of hypocrisy! Oh, this, Teodora—I cannot bear! [Deeply moved, speaks despairingly.]
Teodora. [With increasing nervousness.] You have not understood me, Ernest. We must part.
Ernest. But not like this!
Teodora. Quickly, for mercy's sake. Julian suffers. [Points to the sick-room.]
Ernest. I know it.
Teodora. Then we should not forget it.
Ernest. No; but I also suffer.
Teodora. You, Ernest! why?
Ernest. Through your contempt.
Teodora. I feel none.
Ernest. You have expressed it.
Teodora. It was a lie.
Ernest. No; not entirely. So that our sufferings are not equal. In this implacable strife he suffers as those on earth suffer, I as those in hell.
Teodora. Spare me, Ernest—my head is on fire.
Ernest. And my heart aches.
Teodora. That will do, Ernest. I entreat you to pity me.
Ernest. That was all I asked of you.
Teodora. Mercy.
Ernest. Yes, mercy. But why should you claim it? What is it you fear? of what are you thinking? [Approaches her.]
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