20 THE MOTHER’S TRAGEDY
CORA.
This shaft is aimed even against thy life.
ULRIC.
What is my life without the love of thee ?
CORA.
I hate each word as I do hate the devil.
ULRIC.
I, each evasion. Iam bound a slave
To this wild passion. It will eat me up.
CORA.
You cannot guess the horror that you speak.
I tell you, if I know your golden heart,
This detestation of yourself shall cry
The cry of Edipus—“ I have profaned——”
ULRIC.
What sphinx more cruel? What new C:dipus ?
You riddle, Cora, and it breaks my heart.
[He sinks exhausted.
(Rallying.) By God, I swear to you no lie shall keep
Its Dead Sea bar against our marrying.
CORA.
The truth! Thetruth! Thetruth! I am indeed
That whore I told you. That makes nothing here.
I am the mother of thy bastard birth!