MELCHTHAL (grasping him convulsively).
Into his eyes? Speak, speak!

FURST.
Oh, miserable hour!

STAUFFACHER.
Who is it, tell me?

[STAUFFACHER makes a sign to him.

It is his son! All righteous heaven!

MELCHTHAL.
And I
Must be from thence! What! into both his eyes?

FURST.
Be calm, be calm; and bear it like a man!

MELCHTHAL.
And all for me--for my mad wilful folly!
Blind, did you say? Quite blind--and both his eyes?

STAUFFACHER.
Even so. The fountain of his sight's dried up.
He ne'er will see the blessed sunshine more.

FURST.
Oh, spare his anguish!