_Cli._ From thy sin. If the Judge find thee here, thou’rt lost. _Ep._ Dear Clitus, What judge? _Cli._ Why, He who made thee. _Ep._ (_aside_). Alas! alas! _Cli._ Be found with me, perchance I may prevail. _Ep._ Where would you fly? _Cli._ Last night in heavenly vision Paul stood before me, as when three years ago I saw him at Puteoli: one hand Outstretched he stood and beckoned me to Rome. Thither I go: ’tis my last call to thee: Thou wilt not see me again until the day When I shall hide my face for pity of thee, And stop mine ears to hear thy anguished cry For mercy, thy vain cry. _Ep._ You go to Rome! _Cli._ Think, sister: we were once so closely bound. When we were children in what secret fondness We linked our hands and hearts; how oft we pledged Our innocent oaths that we would never part! Now shall the great gulf fixed ’twixt heaven and hell Divide us? I saved, and thou lost, for ever! 351 That endless life of glory I dread, with thee Not there, not there! _Ep._ Is’t to our uncle’s house You go? _Cli._ The house of Gaius on the Tiber, The seventh door above the Cestian bridge: There shalt thou find immortal life. _Ep._ Dear brother, Go not to Rome: your sect is there suspected. Stay here: or, if you will go, stay at least Till I can come with you. _Cli._ The time is short. Tarry not: come to-night! _Ep._ Nay, not to-night. _Cli._ I may not stay for thee. _Ep._ I cannot come. _Cli._ Thou wilt not come. _Ep._ How can you bid me, Clitus, To leave our helpless mother in all this terror? _Cli._ Ah! thou wilt never come; thou’rt lost, lost, lost. [_Exit._ _Ep._ Pure, noble heart, why should I love thee more Now thou art mad?—I did him wrong not yielding To his delusions. He hath none to love him But me, and I have let him think that I desert him. —Go with him tho’ I cannot, I will follow, And quickly too. To-morrow I’ll to Rome. [_Exit._ SCENE ·• 3 _A passage or ante-room in Seneca’s house in Rome._ _Enter SENECA with papers in his hand._ _SENECA_ (_calling_). Paullina!— 371 Thus go my mornings: now ’tis scarce two hours To dinner. (_Calling._) Paullina! Paullina!—The wretched beggars Multiply every day. I feed half Rome With doles. ’Tis fortunate that trading thrives. Paullina! _PAULLINA_ (_within_). I hear thee: I come. (_Enters._)