Jadwiga (passionately).--Yes. Useless tears and time made me think it
was forever--therefore anger grew in my heart--anger and a desire
for vengeance on you and myself. I wished to be lost, for I said to
myself, "That man does not love me, has never loved me." I married
in the same spirit that I should have thrown myself through a
window--from despair--because, as I still believe, you never loved me.

Leon.--Madam, do not blaspheme. Do not provoke me. I never loved you!
Look at the precipice which you have opened before me--count the
sleepless nights during which I tore my breast with grief--count the
days on which I called to you as from a cross--look at this thin face,
at these trembling hands, and repeat once more that I never loved you!
What has become of me? What is life for me without you? To-day my
head is crowned with laurels and here in my breast is emptiness
and exhaustless sorrow, and tears not wept--and in my eyes eternal
darkness. Oh, by the living God, I loved you with every drop of my
blood, with my every thought--and I was not able to love differently.
Having lost you, I lost everything--my star, my strength, faith,
hope, desire for life, and not only happiness, but the capacity for
happiness. Woman, do you understand the dreadful meaning of those
words? I have lost the capacity for happiness. I have not loved you!
Oh, despair! God alone knows for how many nights I have cried to Him:
"Lord, take my talent, take my fame, take my life, but return to me
for only one moment my Jadwiga as she was of old!"

Jadwiga.--Enough! Lord, what is the matter with me? Leon, I love you!

Leon.--Oh, my dearest! (He presses her to his breast. A moment of
silence.)