Adam.
Hold your jaw. (Both go out.)
Anthony.
He’s innocent, and you, you——
Clara.
Oh, father, you’re awful!
Anthony (takes her by the hand, very gently).
My daughter, Karl is a bungler after all. He killed his mother, but what of that? His father’s left alive. You help him out! You can’t expect him to do it all by himself. You finish me off! The old tree looks pretty knotty yet, doesn’t it? But it’s shaking already. It won’t give you much trouble to fell it. You don’t need an axe. You’ve a pretty face. I’ve never praised you before, but let me tell you now, to give you courage and confidence. Your eyes and nose and mouth are sure to please; you turn into—you understand!—but it seems to me you’re that way already.
Clara (almost demented, flings herself with upraised arms at the dead woman’s feet, and calls out like a child).
Oh, mother, mother!