Pierre (_pointing to_ Wittich).
Try it! Go to him!
Julia.
He's not a bit like himself.
Pierre.
Go on! Go on!
Julia.
(_Who has timidly approached her husband, bid has drawn back at a
movement of his, suddenly throws herself at his feet with great
emotion._) George! George!--I am guilty!--I have sinned before
God and you!--I acknowledge my crime!--My life is in your hands!--Crush
me--grind me to dust!--But God knows, I only obeyed a wretched impulse.
My love for you has never left my heart.--My one desire is to die. Kill
me!--Here!--Now!--But forgive me! Ah, forgive me!
Wittich (_staring straight ahead_).
Yes, they always talk like that--in books, at least.
Julia.
Forgive me!
Wittich.
There is nothing to forgive. And I am not going to kill any one. What
good would it do? (Julia _sobs, hiding her face in her hands._)
Pierre.
Well, then--don't kneel there--like that--Julia, dear!
Julia.
I shall lie here until he raises me. Raise me! Take me in your arms!
Oh, George----
Wittich.