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How may we now Avert the gathering storm?—The viceroy holds His bridal feast, and all is revelry. —'Twas a true-boding heaviness of heart Which kept me from these nuptials.

Thou thyself Mayst yet escape, and, haply of thy bands Rescue a part, ere long to wreak full vengeance Upon these rebels. 'Tis too late to dream Of saving Eribert. E'en shouldst thou rush Before him with the tidings, in his pride And confidence of soul, he would but laugh Thy tale to scorn.

He must not die unwarn'd, Tho' it be all in vain. But thou, Alberti, Rejoin thy comrades, lest thine absence wake Suspicion in their hearts. Thou hast done well, And shalt not pass unguerdon'd, should I live Thro' the deep horrors of th' approaching night.

Noble De Couci, trust me still. Anjou Commands no heart more faithful than Alberti's. [Exit Alberti.

The grovelling slave!—And yet he spoke too true! For Eribert, in blind elated joy, Will scorn the warning voice.—The day wanes fast, And thro' the city, recklessly dispersed, Unarm'd and unprepared, my soldiers revel, E'en on the brink of fate.—I must away. [Exit De Couci.