Get up, my child. Your sister is far above my poor forgiveness.
HEFFTERDINGT.
She is not above your love.
MARIE.
Magda is here! Magda herself is here! [Throws her arms about her mother's neck, weeping.]
FRANZISKA.
Won't any one bring me a glass of water? I am so upset!
HEFFTERDINGT.
Are you quite resolved? [Schwartze remains motionless.] Will you let her go on her way without--