Here I will wait until it is silent
Or until mine has stopped.
—No. He awakes.
The King (he looks at her with friendly eyes): Behold the courage of the wounded, the strength that sustains the weak,
The fellowship of the dying. She could carry me here with these bleeding and dislocated hands.
Through this same meek courage with which you have dragged me here, through this naive endurance,
The woman in her sphere is the image of an inspired resignation, teaching good will to men,
As formerly, servant of the house, she became servant of God.
And it is you
Who join me once more in this place where I must perish!