SCENE.—Night. The Village Churchyard. Enter Leah slowly, her hair streaming over her shoulders.
LEAH—[solus]-What seek I here? I know not; yet I feel I have a mission to fulfil. I feel that the cords of my I being are stretched to their utmost effort. Already seven days! So long! As the dead lights were placed about the body of Abraham, as the friends sat nightly at his feet and watched, so have I sat, for seven days, and wept over the corpse of my love. What have I done? Am I not the child of man? Is not love the right of all,—like the air, the light? And if I stretched my hands towards it, was it a crime? When I first saw him, first heard the sound of his voice, something wound itself around my heart. Then first I knew why I was created, and for the first time, was thankful for my life. Collect thyself, mind, and think! What has happened? I saw him yesterday—no! eight days ago! He was full of love. "You'll come," said he. I came. I left my people. I tore the cords that bound me to my nation, and came to him. He cast me forth into the night. And yet, my heart, you throb still. The earth still stands, the sun still shines, as if it had not gone down forever, for me. By his side stood a handsome maid, and drew him away with caressing hands. It is she he loves, and to the Jewess he dares offer gold. I will seek him! I will gaze on his face—that deceitful beautiful face. [Church illuminated. Organ plays softly.] I will ask him what I have done that—[Hides face in her hands and weeps. Organ swells louder and then subsides again.] Perhaps he has been misled by some one—some false tongue! His looks, his words, seem to reproach me. Why was I silent? Thou proud mouth, ye proud lips, why did you not speak? Perhaps he loves me still. Perhaps his soul, like mine, pines in nameless agony, and yearns for reconciliation. [Music soft.] Why does my hate melt away at this soft voice with which heaven calls to me? That grand music! I hear voices. It sounds like a nuptial benediction; perhaps it is a loving bridal pair. Amen—amen! to that prayer, whoever you may be. [Music stops.] I, poor desolate one, would like to see their happy faces—I must—this window. Yes, here I can see into the church. [Looks into the window. Screams.] Do I dream? Kind Heaven, that prayer, that amen, you heard it not. I call it back. You did not hear my blessing. You were deaf. Did no blood-stained dagger drop upon them? 'Tis he! Revenge!——No! Thou shalt judge! Thine, Jehovah, is the vengeance. Thou, alone, canst send it. [_Rests her arm upon a broken column.]
Enter Rudolf from the sacristy door, with wreath in hand._
RUD.—I am at last alone. I cannot endure the joy and merriment around me. How like mockery sounded the pious words of the priest! As I gazed towards the church windows I saw a face, heard a muffled cry. I thought it was her face,—her voice.
LEAH.—(coldly.) Did you think so?
RUD.—Leah! Is it you?
LEAH.—Yes.
RUD.—(tenderly.) Leah—
LEAH.—Silence, perjured one! Can the tongue that lied, still speak? The breath that called me wife, now swear faith to another! Does it dare to mix with the pure air of heaven? Is this the man I worshipped? whose features I so fondly gazed upon! Ah! [shuddering] No—no! The hand of heaven has crushed, beaten and defaced them! The stamp of divinity no longer rests there! [Walks away.]
RUD.—Leah! hear me!