From the rich-flowering citrons, or to rest,
Dreaming of some wild legend, in the shade
Of the dark laurel-foliage, was enough
Of happiness.-How have these calm delights
Fled from before one passion, as the dews,
The delicate gems of morning, are exhaled
By the great sun!

(RAIMOND enters.)

Raimond! oh! now thou 'rt come,

I read it in thy look, to say farewell

For the last time-the last!

RAIMOND.

No, best beloved!

I come to tell thee there is now no power

To part us-but in death.

CONSTANCE.

I have dreamt of joy,

But never aught like this.-Speak yet again!

Say, we shall part no more!

RAIMOND.

No more, if love

Can strive with darker spirits, and he is strong
In his immortal nature! all is changed

Since last we met. My father-keep the tale

Secret from all, and most of all, my Constance,
From Eribert-my father is return'd :

I leave thee not.

CONSTANCE.

Thy father! blessed sound!

Good angels be his guard !-Oh! if he knew
How my soul clings to thine, he could not hate
Even a Provençal maid !-Thy father!—now

Thy soul will be at peace, and I shall see
The sunny happiness of earlier days

Look from thy brow once more !-But how is this?
Thine eye reflects not the glad soul of mine;

And in thy look is that which ill befits

A tale of joy.

RAIMOND.

A dream is on my soul.

I see a slumberer, crown'd with flowers, and smiling

As in delighted visions, on the brink

Of a dread chasm; and this strange phantasy

Hath cast so deep a shadow o'er my thoughts,
I cannot but be sad.

CONSTANCE.

Why, let me sing

One of the sweet wild strains you love so well,

And this will banish it.

RAIMOND.

It may not be.

Oh! gentle Constance, go not forth to-day:

Such dreams are ominous.

CONSTANCE.

Have you then forgot

My brother's nuptial feast ?—I must be one
Of the gay train attending to the shrine

His stately bride. In sooth, my step of joy

Will print earth lightly now.-What fear'st thou, love?
Look all around! these blue transparent skies,
And sun-beams pouring a more buoyant life
Through each glad thrilling vein, will brightly chase
All thought of evil.-Why, the very air

Breathes of delight!-Through all its glowing realms
Doth music blend with fragrance, and e'en here

The city's voice of jubilee is heard

Till each light leaf seems trembling unto sounds

Of human joy!

RAIMOND.

There lie far deeper things,—

Things, that may darken thought for life, beneath

That city's festive semblance.-I have pass'd Through the glad multitudes, and I have mark'd A stern intelligence in meeting eyes,

Which deem'd their flash unnoticed, and quick,
Suspicious vigilance, too intent to clothe

Its mien with carelessness; and, now and then,
A hurrying start, a whisper, or a hand
Pointing by stealth to some one, singled out
Amidst the reckless throng. O'er all is spread
A mantling flush of revelry, which may hide
Much from unpractised eyes; but lighter signs
Have been prophetic oft.

Up through her sunny firmament a voice.
Joyous as now; when, scarcely heralded

By one deep moan, forth from his cavernous depths
The earthquake burst; and the wide splendid scene
Became one chaos of all fearful things,

Till the brain whirl'd, partaking the sick motion
Of rocking palaces.

CONSTANCE.

And then didst thou,

My noble Raimond! through the dreadful paths
Laid open by destruction, past the chasms,
Whose fathomless clefts, a moment's work, had given
One burial unto thousands, rush to save

Thy trembling Constance! she who lives to bless
Thy generous love, that still the breath of heaven
Wafts gladness to her soul!

RAIMOND.

Heaven!-Heaven is just!

And being so, must guard thee, sweet one, still.
Trust none beside.-Oh! the omnipotent skies
Make their wrath manifest, but insidious man
Doth compass those he hates with secret snares,
Wherein lies fate. Know, danger walks abroad,
Mask'd as a reveller. Constance! oh! by all
Our tried affection; all the vows which bind
Our hearts together, meet me in these bowers,
Here, I adjure thee, meet me, when the bell
Doth sound for vesper-prayer!

CONSTANCE.

"Twill be the bridal hour?

And know'st thou not