MAGDA.
[With a loud cry.] Father! [She flies toward the stove for shelter from the weapon, then takes a few steps, with her hands before her face.] Father! [She sinks, with her knees in a chair, her face on the back. Calling and knocking outside. The door is broken open.] Enter Max, Marie, Heffterdingt, and Mrs. Schwartze.
MRS. SCHWARTZE.
Leopold, what's the matter? Leopold! [To the Pastor.] O my God, he's as he used to be!
MARIE.
Papa dear! Speak, one word! [Throws herself down at his right.]
HEFFTERDINGT.
Get the doctor, Max.
MAX.
Is it a stroke?
HEFFTERDINGT.
I think so. [Exit Max. Aside to Magda.] Come to him. [As she hesitates.] Come; it is the end. [Leads her trembling to Schwartze's chair.]
MRS. SCHWARTZE.
[Who has tried to take the pistol.] Let it go, Leopold; what do you want with it? See, he's holding the pistol and won't let it go.
HEFFTERDINGT.
[Aside.] It is the convulsion. He cannot. My dear old friend, can you understand what I'm saying to you? [Schwartze bows his head a little. Magda sinks down at his left.] God, the All-Merciful One, has called you from on high. You are not her judge. Have you no sign of forgiveness for her? [Schwartze shakes his head slowly.]
MARIE.
[Sinking down by Magda.] Papa, give her your blessing, dear papa! [A smile transfigures his face. The pistol escapes from his hand. He raises his hand slowly to place it on Marie's head. In the midst of this motion a spasm goes through his body. His arm falls back, his head sinks.]
MRS. SCHWARTZE.
[Crying out.] Leopold!
HEFFTERDINGT.
[Taking her hand.] He has gone home. [He folds his hands. Silent prayer, broken by the sobbing of the women.]