Ser. Thy child! Come, man, be thyself; the child’s safe enough. (Places child on ground.)
Sol. He’s crazed!
Dan. (stupefied). That’s not mine. My gold is my child! The gold that the infernal villains have taken!
Ser. Here’s a paper, and some words writ on it.
Dan. Read—read—I cannot read.
Ser. (reads). “Be kind to the child, and it shall profit thee. Grieve not for thy gold—it hath taken this form.”
[Music.
Dan. (on his knees taking the child). A miracle, a miracle! Down on your knees, down, I say, for Heaven has worked a miracle to save me. This money, for which I toiled night and day, and which I loved and worshipped, was to me as a child—a dear dear child. I prayed that this might be, but scoffers mocked me when I prayed, and said that the days of miracles were passed. But they lied, for my prayer has been hearkened to. See, it has her eyes, her eyes, my darling, my darling! My Heaven-sent bairn, thou hast brought me back to reason, to manhood, to life! (The Soldiers crowd round him. 1st Soldier offers to touch the child.) Hands off, hands off! (All fall back.) Touch not the Lord’s gift! touch not the Lord’s gift!
[Tableau. Dan’l—the child on the ground before him—soldiers grouped around.