“I should do nothing for the suicide,” answered the Creator; “but I will confide his spirit to thee for one hour. Improve it if thou canst.”
“Save him,” said Elena to me.
“I promised, and went down into the sepulchre to find thee, where thou hadst slept six centuries. I sat there at the head of thy coffin making thee dream of life. Our meeting, thy visit to Philip V., thy adventures at the Court of Louis I., thy marriage with Elena, all was a dream in the tomb. Thou believedst that three days of life passed in one hour, as six centuries of death elapsed in a single instant.”
“Ah, no! it was not a dream!” exclaimed Tito.
“I understand thy astonishment,” replied Death. “It appeared as existence to thee.... But such is life, the dreams are realities and the realities dreams. Elena and I have triumphed. Science, experience and philosophy have purified thy heart, have ennobled thy spirit, have made thee see the magnificence of earthly grandeur in all its repugnant vanity; that fleeing from death, as thou didst yesterday, thou fledst only from the world; and that begging for eternal love as thou dost to-day, thou askest for immortality. Thou art redeemed!”
“But Elena,” murmured Tito.
“She prays with God. Think not of her; she does not nor ever has really existed. Elena was Beauty! the reflection of immortality. To-day, when the heavenly light of truth and justice resumes its splendor, Elena will be part of Him forever. To Him, then, thou shouldst address thy supplications!”
“It has been a dream!” exclaimed the youth with inexpressible anguish.
“And such will be the world in a few hours; a dream of the Creator.”