Mahulena.—That must surely be his mother! . . . She is proud, I think. . . . (Forcing her way through the crowd.) My Radúz! . . . Ah, now for the first time do I behold that bier. . . . Forgive me! . . . I too will follow the funeral train, only behind you; and I will be quiet, dumb, thou wilt see, and humble in the presence of thy haughty mother.
Radúz.—Who is that maiden and what does she wish?
Mahulena.—My blood runs cold! . . . Thou dost question, Radúz, and canst gaze on me as on a stranger? My Radúz, speak; how canst thou? Dost thou not know me?
Radúz.—I know thee? But wherefore? Thou are mistaken.
Mahulena.—The earth shakes and the heavens fall, and no one offers me his hand lest I stumble. . . . Hast thou forgotten our parting yonder beneath the oak? That touching parting as in the old song perchance the very earth wept on which we stood, and the birds also, perching on the oak. . . . Thou didst leave me, and suddenly it seemed as if some one were taking thy heart from me. . . . SoI flew after thee like a fawn; blind, deaf, frenzied with fear . . . and now I am here I, dost thou hear; I am here . . . By all that is dear to thee on earth, by the love of thy mother, by this lifeless body, by the sun, the earth, I adjure thee; by my own torments—O, know me, know me, know me: else I shall perish from sorrow! (Kneels before him.)
Nyola.—Drag her away at once! By what right dares she speak thus?
Mahulena.—Thou dost ask, O queen! Then ask him; let him answer thee. Let him tell thee who rescued him, who led him out of slavery: ah, ask, ask him; for that alone I beg thee! And gaze not on me scornfully. . . . I am of royal birth even as he! Why then are my garments torn? The forest did that, the deep wilderness, the wild, desolate, beloved, mysterious wilderness through which I have led him. . . . There wilt thou find my bloody footprints over sharp stones: those footprints lead back to the haughty palace that I forsook in order to save him . . . my Radúz, for I loved him more than my father, than my own mother, and therefore went with him!
Radúz, my love is true; I am still just as I was in the Tatras and in the deep forest by the springs . . . O, woe to me; thou dost not answer! Ah, rather draw a dagger and slay me!
Nyola.—My son, thou hast heard; therefore reply.
Radúz.—I am sorry for her. How agonized is her face!
