The king looked at Bronnen in surprise. Every one has a sphere of right--What could he have meant by it? Hastily collecting himself, the king replied: "She might have used the very same words. I can easily imagine how much you sympathized with each other. If I understand rightly, you regard suicide as the greatest of crimes?"
"If that which is most unnatural is, therefore, the greatest crime, I certainly do. 'Self-preservation is the first law of nature.' I shall never forget a conversation I had with old Count Eberhard, last winter, upon this very subject."
"Ah yes, you knew him. Was he really a great man?"
"He was a man of one idea, of grand one-sidedness. But perhaps this is a necessary condition of greatness."
"When did you speak with Countess Irma for the last time?"
"After her father's death, when she had shut herself up in impenetrable darkness. I spoke to her, but could not see her, although she extended her hand to me. I believe that I am the last man who held her hand in his."
"Then let me take your hand in mine!" exclaimed the king.
He held Bronnen's hand in his for a long time, until the latter said:
"Your Majesty, confession for confession.--I loved Irma!"
He spoke in a curt and bitter tone. The king hastily withdrew his hand.