OLD MOOR. How lovely a thing it is when brethren dwell together in unity; as the dewdrops of heaven that fall upon the mountains of Zion. Learn to deserve that happiness, young man, and the angels of heaven will sun themselves in thy glory. Let thy wisdom be the wisdom of gray hairs, but let thy heart be the heart of innocent childhood.
CHARLES. Oh, for a foretaste of that happiness! Kiss me, divine old man!
OLD MOOR (kissing him). Think it thy father's kiss; and I will think I am kissing my son. Canst thou too weep?
CHARLES. I felt as if it were my father's kiss! Woe unto me, were they to bring him now!
(The companions of SCHWEITZER enter in a silent and mournful
procession, hanging down their heads and hiding their faces.)
CHARLES. Good heaven! (Retreats horror-struck, and seeks to hide himself. They pass by him his face is averted. Profound silence. They halt.)
GRIMM (in a subdued tone). My captain!
[CHARLES does not answer and steps farther back.]
SCHWARZ. Dear captain!
[CHARLES retreats still farther.]