"Peace, peace!" echoed the sufferer, while the empress, with a shudder surveyed her black and bloated face.
Suddenly she uttered a cry, and opened her arms. "He comes! he comes!" cried she; and her dying eyes unclosed with a ray of joy.
Yes, he came—he, whom she had so longed to see.
When Van Swieten told him that the empress had gone to Josepha's room, he started from his seat, and hurried through the corridor with such wild speed that the physician had been unable to follow him.
Hastily approaching the bed, he put his arms gently around his mother, and sought to lead her away.
"Mother," said he, imploringly, "leave this room. It is my duty to be here, not yours. Bid adieu to the Empress Josepha, and go hence."
"Oh, oh!" groaned Josepha, falling back upon her pillow, "he does not come for my sake, but for his mother's."
"Yes, Josepha," replied Joseph, "I am here for your sake also, and I shall remain with you."
"I also will remain," said Maria Theresa. "This sacred hour shall unite in love those who so long have been severed by error and misapprehension. Life is a succession of strivings to do well, and relapses into wrong. We feel that we have erred toward you, and we come with overflowing hearts to crave forgiveness. Forgive us, Josepha, as you hope to be forgiven!"
"Forgive me also, Josepha," said Joseph, with genuine emotion. "Let us part in peace. Forgive me my obduracy, as from my soul I forgive you. We have both been unhappy—"