Mon. This very morning, from her own hand, my lord, Eugenia lives to bless and to be blessed again.
De Valmont starts as if stricken to the center, for a moment his features express amazement, then incredulity, and lastly indignation.
De Val. Begone! thou wretched woman, lest I forget thy sex, and kill thee for thy cruelty.
Mon. Nay, let me die, but not be doubted: read, read, and let your eyes assure your soul of joy!
The Count faintly staggers back into a seat, and then fastens his eyes upon the scroll with a frenzied earnestness.
Gasp. Woman! if you have spoken falsely, my noble master’s heart will break at once.
Mon. By the great issue, let my words be judged!
De Val. (reading) “The chamber burst in flames, I snatched my infant from its slumber, I heard the voice of Longueville direct our murder, ruffians rushed towards us to perform his bidding.” (starting forward with uncontrolable fury) Oh! God of wrath and vengeance! hear thou a husband’s and a father’s prayer! strike the pale villain! oh! with thy hottest lightning blast him dead! a curse, a tenfold curse o’erwhelm his death-bed! Traitor! thou shalt not ’scape, this hand shall rend thy heart-strings, I’ll smite thee home.
In the delirium of his passion he draws his sword, and strikes with it as at an ideal combatant, his bodily powers forsake him in the effort, he reels, and falls convulsed into Gaspard’s arms.
Gasp. Help! help! death is on him, help there swiftly!