The warriors return from the Wagenburg, sire, and most of the wives come with them.
They might have patience for a moment more.
(_Remains standing before her and takes her head in his hands_.) To me, it is as if in this hour we had strayed hand in hand through a whole world of joy and sorrow. That disappeareth--all disappeareth. I am again the--I was--nay, I am not he.--But be thou high above all the women, the Queen ... Wilt thou?
Thou wilt not entreat and wilt not cry out?
The day draweth nigh. Before us standeth death.
Sire, I understand thee not. None can attack us, and until the ships come----
(Balthilda _strokes herself on the cheeks, and then stands motionless_.)
But we men are going forth upon the field, to fight.
That can ye not do--that is surely--impossible.
We must. Art thou the Queen, and perceivest not that we must?
The King fights in the foremost rank, and we shall see each other no more alive.... Knowest thou that?
Yea, I know it!... (_Silence. They look at each other_.)
Thy blessing will I have upon the way. (_He sinks on his knees before her; she lays her hands upon his head, bends down to him, trembling, and kisses him on the forehead_.)
(_Springs up and tears back the curtain_.) Enter, who waiteth there!
THE SAME. AMALABERGA, EURIC, AGILA, ATHANARIC, THEODEMIR, _and other leaders_.
King, I sent my child to thee.... I hear ye men have to act.... Give her again to me.
Here hast thou thy child! (_Exeunt_ Amalaberga _and_ Balthilda.)
THE SAME. _Except_ AMALABERGA _and_ BALTHILDA.
(_Stares after them, rouses himself, and perceives the Bishop_.) Bishop, I treated thee basely this evening. Forgive me and have my thanks, for surely I also know why the Goth loveth death.... (_Grasps his sword_.) Now be ye ready? Have the farewells been said?
Sire, we have disobeyed thy command. Which of our wives betrayed it, and which of us told it, that cannot be determined. Enough, they all know it.
Sire, they have silently kissed the blessing of death upon our brows.
They also! (_Aloud_.) Truly we are a nation of kings. It is our misfortune. So come! (_He strides to the background. The others follow. Amid the noisy cries of the people greeting the King, the curtain falls_.)
Herr von Drosse, Major (retired), Lord of the Manor. Helene, his wife. Fritz, their son. Agnes, niece of Frau von Drosse. Von Hallerpfort, lieutenant. Stephan, overseer. Wilhelm, servant.