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 deliberating upon the state of the war. Pergola considers it imprudent to give battle, Malatesti is of a contrary opinion. They are joined by Sforza and Fortebraccio, who are impatient for action, and Torello, who endeavours to convince them of its inexpediency.

Sfo. Torello, did'st thou mark the ardent soul Which fires each soldier's eye?

Tor. I mark'd it well. I heard th' impatient shout, th' exulting voice Of Hope and Courage, and I turn'd aside, That on my brow the warrior might not read Th' involuntary thought, whose sudden gloom Had cast deep shadows there. It was a thought, That this vain semblance of delusive joy Soon like a dream shall fade. It was a thought On wasted valour doom'd to perish here. •••• For these—what boots it to disguise the truth?— These are no wars in which, for all things lov'd, And precious, and rever'd, for all the ties Clinging around the heart, for those whose smile Makes home so lovely, for his native land, And for its laws, the patriot soldier fights! These are no wars in which the chieftain's aim Is but to station his devoted bands, And their's, thus fix'd—to die! It is our fate To lead a hireling train, whose spirits breathe Fury, not fortitude. With burning hearts They rush where Victory smiling waves them on; But if delay'd, if between flight and death, Pausing they stand—is there no cause to doubt What choice were theirs? And but too well our hearts That choice might here foresee. Oh! evil times, When for the leader, care augments, the more Bright glory fades away!—Yet, once again, This is no field for us.

After various debates, Malatesti resolves to attack the enemy. The fourth and fifth scenes of the second act represent the tent of the Count in the Venetian camp, and his preparations for battle. And here a magnificent piece of lyric poetry is introduced, in which the battle is described, and its fatal effects lamented, with all the feeling of a patriot and a