But since she's so quiet and doesn't even move, she may well stop and fill her heart with the sight of them for her whole life long." It was really sublime to see that ignorant, passionate, beautiful Pierina thus overwhelmed below the nuptial couch on which the lovers slept for all eternity.

She had sunk down on her heels, her arms hanging heavily beside her, and her hands open.

And with raised face, motionless as in an ecstasy of suffering, she did not take her eyes from that adorable and tragic pair.

Never had human face displayed such beauty, such a dazzling splendour of suffering and love; never had there been such a portrayal of ancient Grief, not however cold like marble but quivering with life.

What was she thinking of, what were her sufferings, as she thus fixedly gazed at her Prince now and for ever locked in her rival's arms?
Was it some jealousy which could have no end that chilled the blood of her veins?
Or was it mere suffering at having lost him, at realising that she was looking at him for the last time, without thought of hatred for that other woman who vainly sought to warm him with her arms as icy cold as his own?
There was still a soft gleam in the poor girl's blurred eyes, and her lips were still lips of love though curved in bitterness by grief.