(_The morning breaks, and is already in many pieces. The first rays of
the sun are reflected in several hundred dewdrops which are rocking
themselves in the gently waving brush-wood. Two masks drop from the
trees and rush on each other’s swords._)
[Illustration]
1ST MASK. Are you dead?
2ND MASK. Only parts of me.
_Enter_ EMMA.
1ST MASK. Lady, may I ask if you have any present intention of giving up
the ghost, if so, perhaps I could----?
EMMA. I am much obliged to you, but I have already made my own
arrangements----
(_A pair of jack-boots are carried across the stage._)
EMMA. Are those, perhaps, the mortal remains of my Ulpho?
(_Ulpho enters in carpet slippers._)
ULPHO. I am still alive, but I wear boots no more.
[Illustration]
(_The river rises, and a Dragoon Regiment, which has been stationed on
the opposite bank, are carried away, one by one, by the flood. Ulpho
fetches an umbrella from the side scenes._)
EMMA. Would we could share it together!
(_Ulpho is about to give it to her, when a thunderbolt descends, and
the umbrella falls between them._)
ULPHO. Fate has decided otherwise.
(_They embrace, and the curtain falls in an agitated manner._)