Answer:
It was a female figure, dressed in
black. She was seated on one of the lower steps of the scaffold,
leaning forward, her face hid in her lap, and her long dishevelled tresses hanging to the ground, streaming with the rain
which fell in torrents. Wolfgang paused. There was something
awful in this solitary monument of wo. The female had the appearance of being above the common order. He knew the
times to be full of vicissitude, and that many a fair head, which
had once been pillowed on down, now wandered houseless.
Perhaps this was some poor mourner whom the dreadful axe
had rendered desolate, and who sat here heartbroken on the
strand of existence, from which all that was dear to her had
been launched into eternity.
He approached, and addressed her in the accents of sympathy. She raised her head and gazed wildly at him. What was his
astonishment at beholding, by the bright glare of the lightning, the very face which had haunted him in his dreams. It
was pale and disconsolate, but ravishingly beautiful
Explanation:
