Oh! my mother, how barren my life has been, without your companionship, your love.

Many, many nights I have wept bitter tears of anguish to think of you somewhere upon the face of the earth, wandering alone, because of circumstantial evidence." Again from the darkness beyond the court, comes that deep, terrible groan.

The old Moor turns his head as though he does not understand it; but the tableau in front is too dramatic to be lost.
"I began to believe I should have to quit this world of woes without seeing you, for though I do not wish to disturb your happiness, my poor boy, you must see from my looks that I am fading like a flower in the fall; that the monster, consumption, is sapping my life.

Still, I may live some years to enjoy your love; be of good cheer.

How strange to see you a man grown, you whom I left almost a babe.