save me! Come to my arms, let us fly to America!"

She held out her arms, gazing at him with a happy, loving smile. But he did
not rise from his knees to fall upon her breast; he only bowed his head
lower and kissed the hem of her dress--kissed her feet, which he pressed to
his bosom.

"Alas!" he sighed sadly, "this little foot, in its white satin shoe, is not
created for the rough paths of life; it would be torn and blood-stained by
their thorns, and the fault would be mine. No, my sweet love, you shall not
for my sake renounce the world of pleasure and splendor whose queen you
are, even though you wish it, and perhaps even long for the peace and quiet
of solitude. I must not accompany you thither, must not be faithless to
myself. For the most terrible and inconsolable thing which can befall a man
is to be faithless to himself and turn from the way which he himself has
chosen, and from the goals which he himself has appointed. But I should do
this, Leonore, if I renounced the goals and efforts of my whole past life,
and turned from what I have hitherto regarded as the most sacred purpose of
my existence. You yourself, Leonore, cannot wish it, for then how could you
trust my fidelity, my love, if, for your sake, I could be untrue to my
native land, my sacred duty. No, Leonore, my heart is yours, but my brain
and life belong to my country. I came to Vienna to serve it. The great
patriots of Poland sent me here. 'Go to Austria, they said, and serve there
the sacred cause of freedom and human dignity.' And I went, and am here to
serve it. Many are in the league with me, struggling with me toward the
same goal. No one knows the others, but in the decisive hour we shall all
work together for the one great object. And this hour will soon come; all
the preparations are made, all the plans are matured. It is approaching.
The great hour of sacred vengeance is approaching. You do not wish me to
initiate you into my secrets, Leonore, and I now feel that you are right,