Prince. Mother! Speak one word to me!
King. It was thou? It was thou? [He throws himself upon her body.]
The Young Prince [in tears]. Ah, Mother!
Cölestin. She has gone, and I, the shadow of a shadow, stay behind.
The Men [murmur among themselves]. His is the blame! Tear him from off her body! [They draw their swords to attack the King.]
Hans Lorbass [blocking the way with drawn sword]. Away there!
[The Burial-wife mounting solemnly out of the open grave.]
Burial-wife. Children, cease your strife! Can you not see his spirit wanders far? He is wrapped about with the whisperings of eternity. The message of death is on the way, the stone of sacrifice doth reek for blood. Long has this man belonged to me; and now--[she raises her arm and lets it fall]--I come into my own. [The King breathes heavily, stirs, and dies.]
Hans Lorbass [kneels down beside him with a cry]. Master, master!
Burial-wife. Thus from lust and guilt and sorrow have I cleansed his soul. To both of them it shall be as though they had not been. Wrap them about with linen, bear them to my dark abode; then go in silent thought from hence, for my work is done.