He must at length for once speak of his
sorrows, even if death should follow; he must give expression to his
torment and his love, even should Natalie banish him forever from her
presence!
"What have you done?" repeated he. "Ah, she does not even know that she
is slowly murdering me, she does not even know that I love her!"
"Am I not to know?" she reproachfully asked. "Would you, indeed, have
saved my life had you not loved me? Carlo I am indebted to you for my
life, and you say I murder you!"
"Yes," he frowardly exclaimed, "you murder me! Slowly, day by day,
hour by hour, am I consumed by this frightful internal fire that is
destroying me. Ah, you know not that you are killing me. And have you
not destroyed my youthful strength, and from a man converted me into an
old, trembling, and complaining woman? Is it not for your sake that I
have fled the world, leaving behind me all it offered of fame and wealth
and honor? Is it not your fault that I have ceased to be a free man, to
have a will of my own, and have become a slave crawling at your feet?
Ah, woe is me, that I ever came to know you! You are an enchantress,
you have made me your hound, and, whining, I lie in the dust before you,
satisfied when you touch me with your foot.
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