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What recent grief
Darkens thy spirit thus ?
I said not grief. We should rejoice to-day, but joy is not That which it hath been. In the flowers which wreathe Its mantling cup there is a scent unknown, Fraught with some strange delirium. All things now Have changed their nature ; still, I say, rejoice! There is a cause, Anselmo !-We are free, Free and avenged S-Yet on my soul there hangs A darkness, heavy as th’ oppressive gloom Of midnight phantasies.—Aye, for this, too, There is a cause.
How say'st thou, we are free?
Who calls the dead Conqueror or lord ?-Hush ! breathe it not aloud,
The wild winds must not hear it !-Yet, again,
Thine eye hath look'd On fearful deeds, for still their shadows hang O’er its dark orb.-Speak! I adjure thee, say, How hath this work been wrought?
Peace! ask me not! Why shouldst thou hear a tale to send thy blood Back on its fount ?-We cannot wake them now ! The storm is in my soul, but they are all At rest !-Aye, sweetly may the slaughter'd babe By its dead mother sleep; and warlike men Who 'midst the slain have slumber'd oft before, Making the shield their pillow, may repose Well, now their toils are done.—Is 't not enough?
Merciful Heaven! have such things been ? And yet
O Thou, whose ways
How much is man the fiercest !-Others know
Was it for me To stay th’avenging sword ?-No, though it pierced My very soul !—“Hark, hark, what thrilling shrieks Ring through the air around me!-Can'st thou not Bid them be hush'd ?-Oh! look not on me thus ! ”
“Lady! thy thoughts lend sternness to the looks Which are but sad !”—Have all then perishd? all ? Was there no mercy
Mercy! it hath been
CONSTANCE (coming forward).
Oh Heaven -his name, his name? Is it-it cannot be !
Thou here, pale girl! I deem'd thee with the dead !-How hast thou 'scaped The snare?-Who saved thee, last of all thy race? Was it not be of whom I spake e'en now, Raimond di Procida ?
It is enough. Now the storm breaks upon me,
and I sink! Must he too die?
Is it ev'n so ?-Why then,
6 When did man Call
mercy, treason ?- Take my life, but save My noble Raimond !”
6 Maiden!” he must die.
E'en now the youth before his judges stands,
Mercy !-Oh! wert thou to plead But with a look, e'en yet he might be saved! If thou hast ever loved
If I have loved ?