save yourself from my love, which is so cowardly, so egotistic, so hard-hearted; it has no strength in itself to choose banishment or death.  Oh, Amelia! cast me away from your presence; trample me under your feet.  I will die without one reproach, without one complaint.  I will think that my death was necessary to save you from shame, from the torture of a long and dreary existence.  All this is still in your power.  I have no claim upon you; you are not mine; you have listened to my oaths, but you have not replied to them; you are free.  Spurn me, then, you are bound by no vow.”

Amelia raised her arm slowly and solemnly toward heaven.  “I love you!  May God hear me and accept my oath!  I love you, and I swear to be yours; to be true and faithful; never to wed any other man!”

“Oh, most unhappy woman! oh, greatly to be pitied!” cried Trenck.  Throwing his arms around her neck he laid his head upon her bosom.  “Amelia, Amelia! these are not tears of rapture, of bliss.  I weep from wretchedness, from anguish, for your dear sake.  Ah, no!  I will not accept your oath.  I have not heard your words—­those heavenly words which would have filled my heart with light and gladness, had they not contained your fatal condemnation.  Oh, my beloved! you swear that you love me?  That is, to sacrifice all the high privileges of your rank; the power and splendor which would surround a husband of equal birth—­a throne, a royal crown.  Beware! when I once accept your love, then you are mine; then I will never release you; not to the king—­not even to God.  You will be mine through all time and all eternity; nothing shall tear you from my arms, not even your own wish, your own prayers.  Oh, Amelia! do you see that I am a madman, insane from rapture and despair!  Should you not flee from a maniac?  Perhaps his arm, imbued with giant strength, seeking to hold you ever to his heart, might crush you.  Fly, then; spurn me from you; go to your room; go, and say to this mocking courtier, to whom nothing is holy, not even our love, who is surprised, at nothing—­go and say to him:  ’Trenck was a madman; I summoned him for pity; I hoped by mildness and forbearance to heal him.  I have succeeded; he is gone.  Go, now, and watch over your friend.’  I will not contradict your words; so soon as you cross the threshold of the door, I will spring from the balcony.  I will be careful; I will not stumble; I will not dash my head against the stones; I will not be found dead under your window; no trace of blood shall mark my desperate path.  My wounds are fatal, but they shall bleed inwardly; only upon the battle-field will I lie down to die.  Amid the roar of cannon I shall not be heard; I dare call your name with the last sigh which bursts from my icy lips; my last words of love will mingle with the convulsive groans of the dying.  Flee, then! flee from wretchedness and despair.  May God bless you and make you happy!”