The Lady.
Well, I'll shut my eyes. I'll only look for my own handwriting.
v. Wolters.
The will is to be opened in a few days, Countess. He has doubtless
inserted a clause authorising me as executor to return certain papers
to their owners--or destroy them.
The Lady.
Ah, I see you're a Puritan, after all.--No, no, I'll not trouble your
conscience. This loyalty which you bear him to the very grave is
so beautiful, so poetical, and I feel so near to you because of
it--(_Putting her hand over her eyes._) Oh, those curtains in front of
the mirrors! They make me feel as if I were dead myself, (v. Wolters
_is about to tear them down._) No, no--don't. Thanks. Tell me, how long
will it be before the will is opened?
v. Wolters.
Unfortunately, the day is not yet appointed.
The Lady.
I shall not sleep a moment until then. Not even my love, my grief, can
outweigh this terrible fear. My honour, my future, my life--everything
is at stake!
v. Wolters (_amazed_).
Countess!
The Lady.
Please stop calling me Countess.
v. Wolters.
Forgive me. What should I----?
The Lady.
Call me your friend. I want to be that. From this day you become closer
to me than any other being in all the world. Are you not the legacy, as
it were, that our dear dead has left me?--Ah, you and I must become
like brother and sister, two beings who have--nothing--to conceal from
one another. Herr von Wolters, will you be my guide, my confidant--my
friend?
v. Wolters.
Countess! My dear, dear Countess!
The Lady (_softly_).