"
The dying woman did not hear him; she continued in a voice panting
from weariness: "How your presence revives me. I feel that I am growing
stronger. I have nearly been very ill. I am afraid I am not very pretty
today; but never mind, kiss me!"
She opened her arms, and thrust out her lips as if to kiss him.
"But it is on one condition, Guy, that you will leave me my child? Oh! I
beg of you, I entreat you not to take him from me; leave him to me.
What is a mother without her child? You are anxious to give him
an illustrious name, an immense fortune. No! You tell me that this
sacrifice will be for his good. No! My child is mine; I will keep him.
The world has no honours, no riches, which can replace a mother's love.
You wish to give me in exchange, that other woman's child. Never! What!
you would have that woman embrace my boy! It is impossible. Take away
this strange child from me; he fills me with horror; I want my own! Ah,
do not insist, do not threaten me with anger, do not leave me. I should
give in, and then, I should die. Guy, forget this fatal project, the
thought of it alone is a crime. Cannot my prayers, my tears, can nothing
move you? Ah, well, God will punish us.
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