CATILINE. [Huskily.] It kills the memory? Dare I trust your word? Then press your poison-wreath upon my forehead.
FURIA. [Puts the wreath on his head.] Now it is yours! Thus decked you shall appear Before the prince of darkness, Catiline!
CATILINE. Away! away! I yearn to go below;— I long to pass into the spirit lands. Let us together go! What holds me here? What stays my steps? Behind me here I feel Upon the morning sky a misty star;— It holds me in the land of living men; It draws me as the moon attracts the sea.
FURIA. Away! Away!
CATILINE. It beckons and it twinkles. I cannot follow you until this light Is quenched entirely, or by clouds obscured,— I see it clearly now; 'tis not a star; It is a human heart, throbbing and warm; It binds me here; it fascinates and draws me As draws the evening star the eye of children.
FURIA. Then stop this beating heart!
CATILINE. What do you mean?
FURIA. The dagger in your belt—. A single thrust,— The star will vanish and the heart will die That stand between us like an enemy.
CATILINE. Ah, I should—? Sharp and shining is the dagger—
CATILINE. [With a cry.] Aurelia! O Aurelia, where—where are you? Were you but here—! No, no,—I will not see you! And yet methinks all would be well again, And peace would come, if I could lay my head Upon your bosom and repent—repent!