[She embraces him and goes out.]

CATILINE. [Gazes after her.]
Now is she gone! And I--what a relief!
Now can I cast away this wearisome
Hypocrisy, this show of cheerfulness,
Which least of all is found within my heart.
She is my better spirit. She would grieve
Were she to sense my doubt. I must dissemble.
Yet shall I consecrate this silent hour
To contemplation of my wasted life.--
This lamp,--ah, it disturbs my very thoughts;--
Dark it must be here,--dark as is my soul!

[He puts out the light; the moon shines through the pillars in
the rear.]

CATILINE.
Too light,--yes, still too light! And yet, no matter;--
The pallid moonlight here does well befit
The twilight and the gloom that shroud my soul,--
Have ever shrouded all my earthly ways.

CATILINE. Hm, Catiline, then is this day your last;
Tomorrow morning you will be no longer
The Catiline you hitherto have been.
Distant in barren Gaul my life shall run
Its course, unknown as is a forest stream.--
Now am I wakened from those many visions