RAIMOND (starting up).

forth!

They are gone forth! my father leads them on!
All, all Palermo's youth!-No! one is left,
Shut out from glory's race!-They are gone
-Aye! now the soul of battle is abroad,
It burns upon the air!-The joyous winds
Are tossing warrior-plumes, the proud white foam
Of battle's roaring billows!-On my sight
The vision bursts-it maddens! 'tis the flash,
The lightning-shock of lances, and the cloud
Of rushing arrows, and the broad full blaze
Of helmets in the sun!-The very steed
With his majestic rider glorying shares

The hour's stern joy, and waves his floating mane
As a triumphant banner!-Such things are

Even now-and I am here!

ANSELMO.

Alas, be calm!

To the same grave ye press,-thou that dost pine Beneath a weight of chains, and they that rule

The fortunes of the fight.

RAIMOND.

Aye! Thou canst feel

The calm thou wouldst impart, for unto thee

All men alike, the warrior and the slave,
Seem, as thou say'st, but pilgrims, pressing on
To the same bourne.-Yet call it not the same!
Their graves, who fall in this day's fight, will be
As altars to their country, visited

By fathers with their children, bearing wreaths,
And chanting hymns in honour of the dead:
Will mine be such?

VITTORIA rushes in wildly, as if pursued.

VITTORIA.

Anselmo art thou found?

Haste, haste, or all is lost! Perchance thy voice, Whereby they deem Heaven speaks, thy lifted cross, And prophet-mien, may stay the fugitives,

Or shame them back to die.

ANSELMO.

The fugitives!

What words are these?-the sons of Sicily

Fly not before the foe?

VITTORIA.

That I should say

It is too true!

ANSELMO.

And thou-thou bleedest, lady!

VITTORIA.

Peace! heed not me, when Sicily is lost!

I stood upon the walls, and watched our bands,
As, with their ancient, royal banner spread,
Onward they march'd. The combat was begun,

The fiery impulse given, and valiant men

Had seal'd their freedom with their blood-when lo! That false Alberti led his recreant vassals

E'en of their nobler leaders, and dismay,

That swift contagion, on Palermo's bands

Came like a deadly blight. They fled!-Oh shame!
E'en now they fly !—Aye, through the city gates
They rush, as if all Etna's burning streams

Pursued their winged steps!

RAIMOND.

Thou hast not named

Their chief-Di Procida-He doth not fly

VITTORIA.

No! like a kingly lion in the toils,

Daring the hunters yet, he proudly strives

But all in vain! The few that breast the storm,
With Guido and Montalba, by his side,

Fight but for graves upon the battle-field.

RAIMOND.

And I am here!-Shall there be power, O God!
In the roused energies of fierce despair,

To burst my heart-and not to rend my chains?
Oh, for one moment of the thunderbolt

To set the strong man free!

VITTORIA (after gazing upon him earnestly).
Why, 'twere a deed

Worthy the fame and blessing of all time,
To loose thy bonds, thou son of Procida !
Thou art no traitor :-from thy kindled brow
Looks out thy lofty soul !-Arise! go forth!
And rouse the noble heart of Sicily
Unto high deeds again. Anselmo, haste;
Unbind him! Let my spirit still prevail,
Ere I depart for the strong hand of death
Is on me now.-

(She sinks back against a pillar.)

ANSELMO.

Oh Heaven! the life-blood streams

Fast from thy heart-thy troubled eyes grow dim.

Who hath done this?

VITTORIA.

Before the gates I stood,

And in the name of him, the loved and lost,
With whom I soon shall be, all vainly strove
To stay the shameful flight. Then from the foe,
Fraught with my summons to his viewless home,
Came the fleet shaft which pierced me.

ANSELMO.

It may not be too late. Help, help!

VITTORIA.

Yet, oh yet,

Away!

Bright is the hour which brings me liberty!

ATTENDANTS enter.

Haste, be those fetters riven!-Unbar the gates,

And set the captive free!

(The ATTENDANTS seem to hesitate.)

Know

ye not her

Who should have worn your country's diadem?