You know, as I do, that nothing can deceive me where you are concerned.... Master, I beseech you, both for yourself and for me, who love the light and who must lose it with you!... This is the irrevocable hour!... Choose, choose life!... It still offers itself and therefore it belongs to us and you have a right to it!...
Begone, it is useless.... Besides, this one would never have loved me....
It is enough that you love her and that he whom she loves no longer stands between you.... That is what I read in the two futures....
(_Wiping the sweat of anguish from his brow._) Begone, for I know.... And so it was written that, by loving this child, I could have saved myself.... But she is not for me; and my hour is past.... This is the hour of those who come and who have met as time ordained, as life ordained.... Begone, begone, I say!... (_ARIELLE, veiling her features, exit silently._) I surrender my share; and it is for you, my son, that I complete the proof.... (_He takes off his cloak and appears taller and younger, dressed in clothes similar to LANCÉOR'S and presenting a strange resemblance to him. Approaching JOYZELLE._) Ah, my innocent Joyzelle!... You will suffer too, you must suffer still more, since destiny lies hidden in your tears; but what matter the sorrows that lead to love?... I would gladly exchange all the joys that I have known in my poor life for the most cruel of those happy sorrows.... (_He leans over JOYZELLE._) Arielle spoke truly. I have but to make a movement to put back the hours and the days and thus escape the horrible end which fate reserves for me.... Yes, but that movement destroys him whom I love more than myself, him whom the years have chosen for the love for which I had hoped.... Ah, when we thus hold in our hands our own happiness and that of another man; when we must crush one so that the other may survive: it is then that we feel how deep are the roots that bind us to the earth on which we suffer; it is then that life utters a superhuman cry to make itself heard and to defend its rights!... But it is then also that we must give ear to the other voice that speaks, to the voice that has nothing definite or sure to tell us, that has nothing to promise and that is only a murmur more sacred than life's inarticulate cries.... Lancéor and Joyzelle, love each other, love me, for I have loved you.... I am feeble and frail and made for happiness like other men; nor do I surrender my share without a struggle.... Love each other, my children; I am listening to the little voice which has nothing to tell me, but which alone is right.