_Caesa._ Think'st thou I flatter! Then trust thyself--[_leading her to a fountain._] View on this watery mirror Thine angel-form reflected--Lovely shade, Bid this indignant fair confess, how vain Estella's charms were to contend with thine! And yet--oh madman! at Estella's feet Breathing my vows, these eyes forgot these lips, Than roses sweeter, redder--Oh! I'll gaze No more, for gazing I detest myself. _Otti._ This subtile snake, how winds he round my heart! Oh didst thou speak sincerely. _Caesa._ At thy feet, Adored Ottilia! lo! I kneel repentant. Couldst thou forgive--Vain man, it must not be. Forgive the fool, who for a lamp's dull gleaming Scorn'd the sun's noon-tide splendour? for a pebble Who gave a diamond worth a monarch's ransom? No, no, thou canst not. _Otti._ Cannot? Oh Caesario, Thou lov'st no longer, or thou ne'er couldst doubt I can, I must forgive thee!----[_falling on his bosom_] _Caesa._ Best Ottilia, No seraph's song e'er bore a sweeter sound Breathed in the ear of some expiring saint, Than pardon from thy lips. _Otti._ Those lips again Thus seal it!----Yet to prove thy faith, I ask-- _Caesa._ What can Ottilia ask, and I deny? _Otti._ The scarf you wear.---- _Caesa._ [_Starting._] Ottilia! _Otti._ Well I know It was Estella's gift. I'll therefore wear it, And with her jealous pangs repay my own. Give me that scarf. _Caesa._ And can Ottilia wish So mean a triumph? _Otti._ Ha! beware, Caesario! My foot is on thy neck, and should I find Thy head a snake's I'll crush it! quick! the scarf! Am I refused? _Caesa._ Ottilia, be persuaded. More nobly use thy power. _Otti._ [_Suffocated with rage._] The scarf! the scarf! _Caesa._ I value not the toy, nor her who gave it. Then wherefore triumph o'er a fallen foe? It must not be----Hark! footsteps!--Sweet, farewell! Ere night we meet again.----[_Going._] _Otti._ Yes, go, perfidious! But know, ere night, thy head shall grace the scaffold! _Caesa._ [_Returning._] Saidst thou---- _Otti._ Last night my husband's dreams revealed A secret. _Caesa._ [_Starting._] How? thy husband? Marquis Guzman? _Otti._ He spoke of plots--of soldiers brib'd---- [_looking round mysteriously, and pointing to the lower part of the palace._] Of vaults Beneath the royal chamber--Wherefore tell I To thee a tale thou know'st thyself full well? I'll tell it to the king----[_Going._] _Caesa._ Ottilia, stay! _Otti._ The scarf. _Caesa._ [_Giving it._] 'Tis thine!----My life is in thy hands. Be secret, and I live thy slave forever. [_Exit._