The Mother’s Tragedy

THE MOTHER’S TRAGEDY 29 ULRIC. So perish the Queen’s enemies! Well, little lover, have I done it well ? Cora, my sweetheart, we are happy now To think our troubles should be ended so In perfect love and—I am feeling ill [CORA recovers her mental balance. CORA. A blood-grey vapour and a scorpion steam To poison the unrighteous life of God! [ULRIC looks on in a completely dazed manner, uncomprehending. CORA Zakes razor and puts tt in his hand. Kill yourself. ULRIC, smiling, as tf with some divine and ineffable joy, draws the razor across his throat, cutting in deeply. He falls bleeding. My dear! CORA. That is my duty to my motherhood. Let me now think of all this happening. [She sinks slowly into a chair trembling. She puts her hand to her throat as tf choking. She bites her lip and sits easily back, look- ing straight before her with uncomprehena- ing eyes. CURTAIN.