RAIMOND. Who hath done this? Father!-if I may call thee by that name— PROCIDA (to MONTALBA). His unaltering cheek Still vividly doth hold its natural hue, And his eye quails not !-Is this innocence? MONTALBA. No! 'tis th' unshrinking hardihood of crime. -Thou bear'st a gallant mien!-But where is she The fair Provençal maid?-What! know'st thou not (And is she not of that detested race?) -Where hast thou borne her?-speak! RAIMOND. That Heaven, whose eye Burns up thy soul with its far-searching glance, Is with her; she is safe. PROCIDA. And by that word Thy doom is seal'd.-Oh God! that I had died (CONSTANCE enters, and rushes to RAIMOND.) CONSTANCE. Oh! art thou found? -But yet, to find thee thus !-Chains, chains for thee! My brave, my noble love!-Off with these bonds; Let him be free as air :-for I am come To be your victim now. RAIMOND. Death has no pang More keen than this.-Oh! wherefore art thou here? I could have died so calmly, deeming thee Saved, and at peace. CONSTANCE. At peace! And thou hast thought Thus poorly of my love!-But woman's breast RAIMOND. My father!—who hath lull'd thy gentle heart In the dark looks bent on us. (CONSTANCE, after earnestly examining the countenances of the judges, falls at the feet of PROCIDA.) CONSTANCE. Thou art he! Nay, turn thou not away!-for I beheld Thy proud lip quiver, and a watery mist Pass o'er thy troubled eye; and then I knew In truth a worthless sacrifice for his, But yet mine all.-Oh! he hath still to run A long bright race of glory. RAIMOND. Constance, peace! I look upon thee, and my failing heart Is as a broken reed. CONSTANCE (still addressing PROCIDA). If 'twas his crime to rescue me, behold I come to be the atonement! Let him live To crown thine age with honour.-In thy heart PROCIDA (after a pause). I am as calm as that dead Maiden, thou 'rt deceived! pause of nature Ere the full thunder bursts.-A judge is not Father or friend. Who calls this man my son? -My son!-Aye! thus his mother proudly smiled— But she was noble !-Traitors stand alone, Loosed from all ties.-Why should I trifle thus? -Bear her away! RAIMOND (starting forward). And whither? MONTALBA. Unto death. Why should she live when all her race have perish'd? CONSTANCE (sinking into the arms of RAIMOND.) Raimond, farewell!-Oh! when thy star hath risen To its bright noon, forget not, best beloved, I died for thee! RAIMOND. High heaven! thou seest these things; And yet endur'st them!-Shalt thou die for me, May not divide us long.-Her cheek is cold Her deep blue eyes are closed-Should this be death! -If thus, there yet were mercy!-Father, father! Is thy heart human? PROCIDA. Bear her hence, I say! Why must my soul be torn? (ANSELMO enters, holding a crucifix.) ANSELMO. Now, by this sign Of Heaven's prevailing love, ye shall not harm |