Darkens thy spirit thus? ANSELMO. What recent grief VITTORIA. 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! ANSELMO. How say'st thou, we are free? There may have raged, within Palermo's walls, Some brief wild tumult, but too well I know They call the stranger, lord. VITTORIA. Who calls the dead Conqueror or lord?-Hush! breathe it not aloud, The wild winds must not hear it !-Yet, again, I tell thee, we are free! ANSELMO. Thine eye hath look'd On fearful deeds, for still their shadows hang VITTORIA. Peace! ask me not! Why shouldst thou hear a tale to send thy blood Well, now their toils are done.-Is 't not enough? CONSTANCE. Merciful Heaven! have such things been? And yet -I am an outcast now. ANSELMO. O Thou, whose ways Clouds mantle fearfully; of all the blind, How much is man the fiercest !-Others know Their limits-Yes! the earthquakes, and the storms, The bounds of retribution !-Couldst thou gaze, On such dread scenes unmoved? VITTORIA. 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 ! " ANSELMO. "Lady! thy thoughts lend sternness to the looks Which are but sad!"-Have all then perish'd? all? Was there no mercy? VITTORIA. Mercy! it hath been A word forbidden as th' unhallowed names Of evil powers.-Yet one there was who dared To own the guilt of pity, and to aid The victims; but in vain.—Of him no more! Will be his meed. CONSTANCE (coming forward). Is it-it cannot be ! Oh Heaven!-his name, his name? VITTTORIA (starting). 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 he of whom I spake e'en now, Raimond di Procida? CONSTANCE. It is enough. Now the storm breaks upon me, and I sink! Must he too die? VITTORIA. Is it ev'n so ?-Why then, Live on-thou hast the arrow at thy heart! I mean not to betray thee. Thou may'st live! If Raimond too must die?-It is as sure CONSTANCE. “When did man Call mercy, treason ?-Take my life, but save My noble Raimond!" VITTORIA. “Maiden!” he must die. E'en now the youth before his judges stands, Of summer-waves; aye, though a father sit What wouldst thou? Bend thou not to me. CONSTANCE. Mercy!-Oh! wert thou to plead But with a look, e'en yet he might be saved! If thou hast ever loved VITTORIA. -If I have loved? It is that love forbids me to relent; I am what it hath made me.-O'er my soul I then might pity-but it will not be. Could I weep, |