Kore. Not hurt, but taken.
[Adrian throws his fettered arms upon the table and lays his face upon them]
Soph. Is Petrizoff dead?
Kore. Only a wound. This night belongs to hell. O, if it could have been as we planned!
Soph. No one is killed?
Kore. No one but Orloff.
Soph. Orloff dead! [Under her breath] Then I am safe.
Kore. Gods, if only it had been Petrizoff! His escape is unbelievable. [Turning to Adrian] What says the preacher now?
Soph. Don't! See his fetters?