Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/41



In her triumphant beauty?—Should we pause? As if death were not mercy to the pangs Which make our lives the records of our foes? Let them all perish!—And if one be found Amidst our band, to stay th' avenging steel For pity, or remorse, or boyish love, Then be his doom as theirs![A pause. Why gaze ye thus? Brethren, what means your silence?

Be it so! If one amongst us stay th' avenging steel For love or pity, be his doom as theirs! Pledge we our faith to this!

(Rushing forward indignantly.) Our faith to this! No! I but dreamt I heard it!—Can it be? My countrymen, my father!—Is it thus That freedom should be won?—Awake! Awake To loftier thoughts!—Lift up, exultingly, On the crown'd heights, and to the sweeping winds, Your glorious banner!—Let your trumpet's blast Make the tombs thrill with echoes! Call aloud, Proclaim from all your hills, the land shall bear The stranger's yoke no longer!—What is he Who carries on his practised lip a smile, Beneath his vest a dagger, which but waits Till the heart bounds with joy, to still its beatings? That which our nature's instinct doth recoil from, And our blood curdle at—Ay, yours and mine— A murderer!—Heard ye?—Shall that name with ours