DUKE. She must be burned alive! You, men, see that the pyre is raised close to the shore, and let the winds play with her ashes!
SWANWHITE. [On her knees before the DUKE] No, no—I pray you, though she was my executioner: have mercy on her!
STEPMOTHER. [Enters, changed, freed from the evil powers that have held her in their spell] Mercy! Who spoke the sacred word? Who poured her heart in prayer for me?
SWANWHITE. I did—your daughter—mother!
STEPMOTHER. O, God in heaven, she called me mother!—Who taught you that?
SWANWHITE. Love did!
STEPMOTHER. Then blessed be love which can work miracles like that!—But, child, then it must also have the power to make the dead return out of the darkling realms of death!—I cannot do it, having not received the grace of love. But you!
SWANWHITE. Poor me—what can I do?
STEPMOTHER. You can forgive, and you can love—Well, then, my little Lady Almighty, you can do anything!—Be taught by me who have no power at all. Go, cry the name of your beloved, and put your hand above his heart! Then, with the help of the Supreme One—calling none but Him for helper—your beloved will hear your voice—if you believe!
SWANWHITE. I do believe—I will it—and—I pray for it!