In the same perspective as Scene III. is the Heavenly City on the Hill. Thronging spirits move to and fro.
The distance is full of radiance and of happy social life. In the foreground is seen a dim and desolate place. It is cavernous and mountainous. Its extreme edge yawns over a black space, like a gulf or pit, or it might be the mouth of an underground river. Here and there is a stark, dead tree. A narrow footpath winds among the crags. The path turns a sharp corner between boulders; and the fair contrast of a sunny country smiles beyond it. Rosebushes in full bloom peer above the top of the rocks. The annunciation lily is still prominent among the flowers. No sign of life appears in the mountainous foreground.
Suddenly, silently, and swiftly, moving from the sunny land, around the sharp turn in the pathway, feet and face set toward the cavernous region,
Enter Azrael, Angel of Death. (The
Angel is immovable of manner. But
an obvious tenderness wars with the
solemnity of his expression. He looks
neither to the right nor to the left, but
glides over the rough path steadily;
his robe, which is of dull, white gauze,
conceals his feet; his wings are
folded; he carries no flaming sword,
nor any weapon.)
(After a moment’s interval, following The Angel quickly,)
Enter Dr. Thorne (his robe is much
paler, but still of a purplish tint. It
is now clasped by the golden cross.
He cries aloud). Azrael!
Echo (from the caverns). Azrael!
(Azrael makes no reply. Moves on steadily.)
Dr. Thorne (in a lower voice). Azrael, Angel of Death!
(Azrael turns his head, but without pausing.)