SCENE III.-The Sea Shore.

RAIMOND DI PROCIDA.

CONSTANCE.

CONSTANCE.

There is a shadow far within your eye,

Which hath of late been deepening. You were wont
Upon the clearness of your open brow
To wear a brighter spirit, shedding round

Joy, like our southern sun. It is not well,

If some dark thought be gathering o'er your soul,
To hide it from affection. Why is this,

My Raimond, why is this?

RAIMOND.

Oh! from the dreams

Of youth, sweet Constance, hath not manhood still

A wild and stormy wakening?-They depart,

Light after light, our glorious visions fade,
The vaguely beautiful! till earth, unveil'd,
Lies pale around; and life's realities

Press on the soul, from its unfathom❜d depth
Rousing the fiery feelings, and proud thoughts,

In all their fearful strength !-'Tis ever thus,

And doubly so with me; for I awoke

With high aspirings, making it a curse

To breathe where noble minds are bow'd, as here.

-To breathe !-it is not breath!

CONSTANCE.

I know thy grief,

-And is 't not mine ?-for those devoted men
Doom'd with their life to expiate some wild word,
Born of the social hour. Oh! I have knelt,
E'en at my brother's feet, with fruitless tears,
Imploring him to spare. His heart is shut
Against my voice; yet will I not forsake

The cause of mercy.

RAIMOND.

Waste not thou thy prayers,

Oh, gentle love, for them.

There's little need

For Pity, though the galling chain be worn

By some few slaves the less. Let them depart!
There is a world beyond th' oppressor's reach,

And thither lies their way.

CONSTANCE.

Alas! I see

That some new wrong hath pierced you to the soul.

RAIMOND.

Pardon, beloved Constance, if my words,

From feelings hourly stung, have caught, perchance,
A tone of bitterness.-Oh! when thine eyes,

With their sweet eloquent thoughtfulness, are fix'd
Thus tenderly on mine, I should forget

All else in their soft beams; and yet I came

To tell thee

CONSTANCE.

What? What wouldst thou say? O speak !

Thou wouldst not leave me !

RAIMOND.

I have cast a cloud,

The shadow of dark thoughts and ruin'd fortunes,
O'er thy bright spirit. Haply, were I gone,
Thou wouldst resume thyself, and dwell once more

In the clear sunny light of youth and joy,

E'en as before we met-before we loved!

CONSTANCE.

This is but mockery.-Well thou know'st thy love
Hath given me nobler being; made my heart.
A home for all the deep sublimities

Of strong affection; and I would not change
Th' exalted life I draw from that pure source,

With all its chequered hues of hope and fear,

Ev'n for the brightest calm. Thou most unkind! Have I deserved this?

RAIMOND.

Oh! thou hast deserved

A love less fatal to thy peace than mine.
Think not 'tis mockery!-But I cannot rest
To be the scorn'd and trampled thing I am
In this degraded land. Its very skies,
That smile as if but festivals were held
Beneath their cloudless azure, weigh me down
With a dull sense of bondage, and I pine
For freedom's charter'd air. I would go forth
To seek my noble father; he hath been
Too long a lonely exile, and his name
Seems fading in the dim obscurity

Which gathers round my fortunes.

CONSTANCE.

Must we part?

And is it come to this?-Oh! I have still
Deem'd it enough of joy with thee to share
E'en grief itself—and now-but this is vain;
Alas! too deep, too fond, is woman's love,

Too full of hope, she casts on troubled waves

The treasures of her soul!

RAIMOND.

Oh, speak not thus!

Thy gentle and desponding tones fall cold
Upon my inmost heart.-I leave thee but
To be more worthy of a love like thine.

For I have dreamt of fame !-A few short years,
And we may yet be blest.

CONSTANCE.

A few short years!

Less time may well suffice for death and fate
To work all change on earth!-To break the ties
Which early love had form'd; and to bow down
Th' elastic spirit, and to blight each flower
Strewn in life's crowded path!-But be it so!
Be it enough to know that happiness

Meets thee on other shores.

RAIMOND.

Where'er I roam

Thou shalt be with my soul !-Thy soft low voice

Shall rise upon remembrance, like a strain

Of music heard in boyhood, bringing back

Life's morning freshness.-Oh! that there should be