112 THE TEMPLARS IN CTPRl'S. [ACT III. ADALBERT (still looking longingly at PHILIP, whilst he tries to free himself from MOLAY). I cannot, cannot part from that old man, He draws mo as with superhuman might— Good Master 1 let, oh, let me see his face ! MOLAY (with emotion, letting him go). Go, enter then thy Heaven !— ADALBERT (having hastened from the background, where both had been standing, to the sleeping PHILIP ti» the foreground, and recognized him). Jesu ! Maria !— My father ! PHILIP (awaking, ami still half asleep). Help! ADALBERT. Yes, help I bring indeed !— Oh, it is he,—'tis he ! PHILIP. Ha!— ADALBERT (warmly embracing him). It is I! Thy son's heart ljeats on thy dear heart once more ! Alas ! he faints ! PHILIP (who had hitherto stared strangely at ADALBERT, feebly raising himself). My Adalbert ! ADALBERT. My father ! MOLAT (icho has been standing on the other side of the foreground, lost in joy as he surveys the group, with eyes raised to Heaven). My God, Thou hast been merciful to us !