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 His bosom knew no falsehood, and he deem'd Thine clear and stainless as a warrior's shield, Wherein high deeds and noble forms alone, Are brightly imag'd forth.

Syl.—What now avail These recollections?

Seb.—What!—I have seen thee shrink As a murderer from the eye of light before me! I have earn'd, (how dearly and how bitterly It matters not, but I have earn'd at last.) Deep knowledge, fearful wisdom!—Now, begone! Hence to thy guests, and fear not, though arraign'd E'en of Sebastian's friendship!—Make his scorn, (For he will scorn thee, as a crouching slave By all high hearts is scorn'd,) thy right, thy charter, Unto vile safety! –Let the secret voice, Whose low upbraidings will not sleep within thee, Be as a sign, a token of thy claim To all such guerdons as are shower'd on traitors, When noble men are crush'd!—And fear thou not! 'Tis but the kingly cedar which the storm Rends from his mountain-throne; the ignoble shrub, Grovelling beneath, may live.

Syl.–It is thy part To tremble for thy life.

Seb.—They that have look'd Upon a heart like thine, should know too well The worth of life to tremble!—Such things make Brave men, and reckless. Aye, and they whom fate Would trample, should be thus. It is enough. Thou mayst depart.

Syl.—And thou, if thou dost prize Thy safety, speed thee hence. [Exit Sylveira.

Seb.—(alone.)—And this is he Who was as mine own soul!—Whose image rose Shadowing my dreams of glory with the thought, That on the sick man's weary couch he lay, Pining to share my battles!

(Chorus of voices heard within, & music.) Ye winds that sweep The conquer'd billows of the western deep,