Doubled it.
Whithersoever Donna Anna moved,
My eyes, that ever follow’d hers along,
Saw them pursue Don Cesar through the crowd
And only rest on him; I cursed him then,
And then excused him, as the judge should do
Whose heart is yearning with the guilt he damns.
Ar. Where will this passion end?
Prince. I think in death,
Led by the fatal secret you have told me.