Makes hope, reality; for thou art all RAIMOND. Yet why so long, Ev'n as a stranger, hast thou cross'd my paths, PROCIDA. Because I would not link thy fate with mine, And rising, in majestic scorn, to cast Her alien bondage off! RAIMOND. And where is this? PROCIDA. Here, in our isle, our own fair Sicily! Her spirit is awake, and moving on, In its deep silence mightier, to regain RAIMOND. Can it be thus indeed ?-Thou pour'st new life PROCIDA. Thou shalt hear more! Thou shalt hear things which would,-which will arouse The proud, free spirits of our ancestors E'en from their marble rest. Yet mark me well! Be secret!-for along my destin'd path I yet must darkly move.-Now, follow me; And join a band of men, in whose high hearts RAIMOND. My noble father! Thy words have given me all for which I pined-- As a bright fountain from its icy bonds PROCIDA. Aye, this is well! Such natures burst men's chains!-Now, follow me. END OF ACT THE FIRST. [Exeunt. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I-Apartment in a Palace. ERIBERT. CONSTANCE. CONSTANCE. Will you not hear me?-Oh! that they who need ERIBERT. 'Tis too late. You have a soft and moving voice, which pleads With eloquent melody-but they must die. CONSTANCE. What, die!-for words?-for breath, which leaves no trace To sully the pure air, wherewith it blends, And is, being utter'd, gone?—Why, 'twere enough For such a venial fault, to be deprived One little day of man's free heritage, Heaven's warm and sunny light!-Oh! if you deem Delay the stroke, till guilt, made manifest, Shall bid stern Justice wake. ERIBERT. I am not one Of those weak spirits, that timorously keep watch For fair occasions, thence to borrow hues Of virtue for their deeds. My school hath been Where power sits crown'd and arm'd.-And, mark me, sister! To a distrustful nature it might seem Strange, that your lips thus earnestly should plead For these Sicilian rebels. O'er my being Suspicion holds no power. And yet take note. -I have said, and they must die. |