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RAIMOND. Who hath done this f Father —if I may call thee by that name— Look, with thy piercing eye, on those whose smiles Were masks that hid their daggers.-There, perchance, May lurk what loves not light too strong. For me, I know but this—there needs no deep research To prove the truth—that murderers may be traitors Ev’n to each other. PRocIDA (to MonTALBA). His unaltering cheek Still vividly doth hold its natural hue, And his eye quails not l—Is this innocence f MONTALBA, No! 'tis th’ unshrinking hardihood of crime. —Thou bear'st a gallant mien'—But where is she Whom thou hast barter'd fame and life to save, The fair Provençal maid f—What know'st thou not That this alone were guilt, to death allied ? Was 't not our law that he who spared a foe, (And is she not of that detested race f) Should thencesorth be amongst us as a foe —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 Before this bitter hour, in the full strength And glory of my heart!

(CoNSTANCE enters, and rushes to RAIMOND.)

CONSTANCE. Oh ! art thou found 2 —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 f 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 Hath strength to suffer too.—Thy father sits On this tribunal; Raimond, which is he * RAIMOND. My father!—who hath lull'd thy gentle heart With that false hope —Beloved gaze around— See, if thine eye can trace a father's soul

in the dark looks bent on us.

(constance, after earnestly eramining 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
Thou wert his father!—Spare him!—take my life,
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).
Oh, yet relent!
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
There's a deep conflict; but great nature pleads
With an o'ermastering voice, and thou wilt yield !
—Thou art his father
PRocidA (after a pause).
Maiden, thou’rt deceived
I am as calm as that dead pause of nature
Ere the full thunder bursts.-A judge is not
Father or friend. Who calls this man my son 2
—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, Purest and loveliest being 2–but our fate 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 f PROCIDA. Bear her hence, I say! Why must my soul be torn ?

(ANSELMo enters, holding a crucific.)

ANSELM0.
Now, by this sign
Of Heaven's prevailing love, ye shall not harm
One ringlet of her head.—How ! is there not
Enough of blood upon your burthen’d souls?

Will not the visions of your midnight couch

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