_Amel._ Not to reproach, for that you sought a life, Which you well knew I prized above my own; Not to complain, that when my heart reposed On you for all its earthly joys, you broke it, I seek you now: but with true zeal I come To warn thee, yea with tears implore thee, turn From those most dangerous paths, which now thou tread'st. Oh! wake, my husband! Close thy guilty dream; Be just, be good! be what till how I thought thee! That when we part (as ere two hours me must) We may not part forever. _Caesa._ How to answer, Or in what words excuse--Could my best blood Wash out thy knowledge of my fault.-- _Amel._ My knowledge? And say, on earth none knew it! say thy crime To eye of man were viewless as the winds, And secret as the laws which rule the dead: Could'st hide it from thyself?--Would not he know it, Whose knowledge more than all thou ought to dread, His, who knows all things?--Oh! short-sighted mortals! Oh! vain precautions! Oh! misjudging sense! Man thinks his secret safe, for no ear heard it! Man thinks his act unknown, for no eye saw it! But there was one above both saw and heard, When neither ear could hear, nor eye could---- _Caesa._ Thou lovely moralist! Oh! take me! school me! Mould thou my heart, and make it like thine own. _Amel._ Dost thou speak thus? _Caesa._ Be that one act forgiven, And prove---- _Amel._ Oh! that were light: As yet thou'rt guilty In thought alone. My father lives! _Caesa._ Indeed! _Amel._ He starts!--He feigned!--Oh! for heaven's love; my husband, Trifle not now! this hour is precious, precious! My soul is winged for heaven, and stays its flight, In hopes of teaching thine the way to follow: Let not its stay be vain! let my tears win thee, And turn from vice: Repent; be wise; be warned; For 'tis no idle voice that gives the warning; I speak it from the grave! _Caesa._ The grave! _Amel._ What fear'st thou? Why shudder at a name?--Oh! if thou needs Wilt tremble, tremble for thyself, not me. I die to live; thy death may be for ever! Short are my pangs; thy soul's may be eternal! _Caesa._ Die? Die!--Each word--Each look--Dreadful suspicions. But no! it cannot, shall not be! _Amel._ It shall not? As I've a soul, in one short hour, Caesario, That soul must kneel before the throne of God. _Caesa._ Mean'st thou---- _Amel._ E'en so; I'm poisoned! _Caesa._ Torture! madness! Within there! _Re-enter father_ Bazil, Estella, &c. _Caesa._ Help! Oh! help! The princess dies! I'll speed myself.---- _Amel._ [_Detaining him._] No, no, thou must not leave me: My hour of death is near, and thou must see it-- _Caesa._ Distraction!