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himself, the forehead had a deathly whiteness, the eyelids were
unnaturally large, and the thin wax-yellow hands were
groping feebly and helplessly over the dark blue bolster.
Marie wept. “Art thou so ill?” she murmured. She
knelt, supporting her elbows on the edge of the bed, and
gazed at his face.
“Ulrik Christian,” she called, and laid her hand on his
shoulder.
“Is any one else here?” he moaned weakly.
She shook her head. “Art thou very ill?” she asked.
“Yes, ’t is all over with me.”
“No, no, it must not be! Whom have I if you go? No,
no, how can I bear it!”
“To live?—’t is easy to live, but I have had the bread of
death and the wine of death, I must die—yes, yes,—bread
and wine—body and blood—d’ you believe they help?
No, no, in the name of Jesus Christ, in the name of Jesus
Christ! Say a prayer, child, make it a strong one!”
Marie folded her hands and prayed.
“Amen, amen! Pray again! I’m such a great sinner,
child, it needs so much! Pray again, a long prayer with
many words—many words! Oh, no, what’s that? Why
is the bed turning? — Hold fast, hold fast! ’T is turning—like
a whirlwind of unthinkable woe, a dance of
eternal anguish, and—ha, ha, ha! Am I drunk again? What
devilry is this—what have I been drinking? Wine! Ay,
of course, ’t was wine I drank, ha, ha! We ’re gaily yet,
we ’re gaily—Kiss me, my chick!
Herzen und Küssen
Ist Himmel auf Erd—
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