But the bright eyes were
shut; the radiance of his smile was dimmed in death, yet still that
smile was there. Bruce precipitated his lips to his, and sinking on
his knees, remained in a silence only broken by his sighs.
It was an awful and heart-breaking pause, for the voice which in all
scenes of weal or woe had ever mingled sweetly with theirs, was silent.
Helen, who had not wept since the tremendous hour of the morning, now
burst into an agony of tears; and the vehemence of her feelings tearing
so delicate a frame (now rendered weak unto death by a consuming
sickness, which her late exertions and present griefs had made seize on
her very vitals), seemed to threaten the immediate extinction of her
being. Bruce, aroused by her smothered cries, as she lay almost
expiring, upheld by Gloucester, hurried to her side. By degrees she
recovered to life and observance; but finding herself removed from the
bier, she sprang wildly toward it. Bruce caught her arm to support her
tottering steps. She looked steadfastly at him, and then at the
motionless body. "He is there," cried she, "and yet he speaks not! He
soothes not my grief--I weep, and he does not comfort me! And there he
lies! O! Bruce, can this be possible? Do I really see him dead? And
what is death?" added she, grasping the cold hand of Wallace to her
heart.
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