Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/29



But not forgotten!—Ah! beware, beware! —Nay, look not sternly on me.—There is one Of that devoted band, who yet will need Years to be ripe for death.—He is a youth, A very boy, on whose unshaded cheek The spring-time glow is lingering. 'T was but now His mother left me, with a timid hope Just dawning in her breast;—and I—I dared To foster its faint spark.—You smile!—Oh! then He will be saved!

Nay, I but smiled to think What a fond fool is hope!—She may be taught To deem that the great sun will change his course To work her pleasure; or the tomb give back Its inmates to her arms.—In sooth, 't is strange! Yet, with your pitying heart, you should not thus Have mock'd the boy's sad mother—I have said, You should not thus have mock'd her!—Now, farewell. [Exit Eribert.

Oh, brother! hard of heart!—for deeds like these There must be fearful chastening, if on high Justice doth hold her state.—And I must tell Yon desolate mother that her fair young son Is thus to perish!—Haply the dread tale May slay her too;—for heaven is merciful. —'Twill be a bitter task! [Exit Constance.