SCENE VI.
_Night--the interior of Olaf’s house--Teresa alone--a bright fire burns on the hearth--refreshments are set out, and clothes hanging by the fire for Olaf and Paolo._
_Teresa._ How late it is! an hour beyond the midnight! And bitter cold it is! The icy wind Even pierces through these walls! Poor little Paolo, How weary and half-frozen he will be: But he shall sit upon the bench beside me, And I will hold his hands, and lay his head Upon my knee; it is his dear indulgence-- Poor child, and he shall have it all to-night!
[_She puts fresh logs on the fire._
And this is the third time I have renewed The wasting fire! and when I piled at first, “My Paolo will be here,” I said, “before These logs shall have burned through!” but, now alas, I know not what to say, saving the wonder That he comes not, and even this is grown A kind of vague despair, that seems to threaten He will not come at all! Oh, if aught happen Save good unto the child, like poor old Jacob, Then should I be bereaved!
_Enter_ HULDA, _with a very dejected countenance; she takes down_ PAOLO’S _clothes, and folds them up_.
_Ter._ Nay, how is this?
_Huld._ He will not need them more?
_Ter._ Woman, what say’st thou?
_Huld._ Two hunters from the icebergs are come down-- Ere long thy husband comes.
_Ter._ And not my boy?
_Hulda._ [_laying the clothes together._] He will not need these more!
_Ter._ Then he is dead!
_Huld._ Alas, dear lady, yes!
_Ter._ Peace, woman! peace! The earth were less forlorn without the sun, Than I without my boy! He is not dead!
_Huld._ Would God he were not!
_Ter._ Do not say he is! It is like blasphemy to say he’s dead. Heaven would not strip me so--O do not say it! Where are these men? I’ll forth and meet my boy!
_Huld._ [_stopping her._] He is not on the road! No, never more Will he repass this threshold!
_Ter._ ’Tis a dream!
_Huld._ Dear lady, no!--too plainly tell the hunters All that has happened!
_Ter._ And, pr’ythee, what has happened?
_Huld._ A quarrel ’twixt the hunter and our master, Who now comes wounded home.
_Ter._ And what of Paolo?
_Huld._ Oh heavy, heavy news!--The child is missing!
_Ter._ Nay, then he is not dead!--Oh no, not dead! I told thee heaven would not so deal with me! My precious boy will come back on the morrow,-- Hunters are often lost for many days. These men shall seek for him among the wilds-- I, too, will go myself. Where are the men!
_Enter the_ HUNTER, _hastily_.
_Hunt._ Dear lady, woe is me!
_Huld._ Away, away!
_Ter._ Where is my boy?
_Hunt._ Oh wretched, wretched mother!
_Ter._ Torture me not, but tell me where he is?
_Hunt._ Lady, forgive me for the news I bring!
_Ter._ Then he is dead?
_Hunt._ Most terrible recital! Lady, thy husband, to preserve himself, Hath given thy little Paolo to the wolves!
_Ter._ [_with a scream of horror._] Oh no, no, no!
_Hunt._ He stopped their maws With thy poor Paolo’s blood!
_Ter._ He did not so!
_Hunt._ Poor little one, how he did cry for thee!
_Huld._ Peace! can’st not hold thy peace. Oh hear it not! Lady, he is but missing.
_Hunt._ Poor weak thing! How he did cling to me, and pray that I Would save him from his father!
[_Teresa clasps her hands, and stands in speechless agony._
I might have snatched a pretty lock of hair; I wish I had--a pretty curling lock!
_Ter._ [_falling on her knees._] God, of thy mercy strengthen, strengthen me! Enable me to bear what is thy will!
[_She falls insensible to the floor._
_Huld._ Wretch, why didst tell it her so cruelly-- Besides, the iceberg hunters say not so. Thou’st killed her by thy tidings!
_Hunt._ Hark, he comes! I hear her husband’s voice!
_Huld._ She must not see him!
[_She bears Teresa out._
_Hunt._ I must off! I’ll not again meet Olaf; He’s not the facile fool that once he was: But there’s that damning deed laid to his charge, Will make Teresa curse both him and heaven!
[_He goes out._