FILIPO.
(Who has hurried to aid the King.) Go, Donna Alma! The strength begins to leave his limbs.
THE KING.
(Struggling against death, while Filipo and Alma support him upon the steps of the throne.) I seek proofs!——Proofs! Who can prove by his corpse that he was a king!——It is the last chance!——I am not mad!——Hurry, my child!——Proofs!——Too late! too late!——Such is life!
ALMA.
(Bending over him, lamenting.) My father! Don't you hear me? Look me in the eye, my father! What is your hand seeking? Your child is kneeling beside you!
THE KING.
——I thank you, bu—but not as a king——only——as——a man——
ALMA.
Oh, oh, his eyes!——Father! Move your hand! Oh, woe is me, is there no help? Oh, pity me, he no longer hears my voice! His cheeks are cold! How can I warm his heart? Your mighty soul, my father, where is it, that it save you! Don't leave me alone, my father! Don't leave me alone! Oh, woe is me, woe is me, he has left me!
KING PIETRO.
(To himself.) I stand here like an outlaw!
FILIPO.
Quiet your sorrow, Donna Alma!
KING PIETRO.
I will seek to make amends for her loss to the best of my power, if she is willing to become my child through you.
FILIPO.
God bless you for that, my father!
KING PIETRO.
We will give him princely burial; whoever he may be! But nobody must hear a word of what we three have passed through here during this hour. History shall never tell of me that I made a king my court fool!
Curtain.