Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/78



Bear him in chains before us. We will sit To-day in judgment, and the skies shall see The strength which girds our nature.—Will not this Be glorious, brave Montalba?—Linger not, Ye tardy messengers! for there are things Which ask the speed of storms. [Exeunt Guido and others. Is not this well?

'T is noble. Keep thy spirit to this proud height, (Aside) And then—be desolate like me!—my woes Will at the thought grow light.

What now remains To be prepared?—There should be solemn pomp To grace a day like this.—Ay, breaking hearts Require a drapery to conceal their throbs From cold inquiring eyes; and it must be Ample and rich, that so their gaze may not Explore what lies beneath. [Exit Procida.

Now this is well! —I hate this Procida; for he hath won In all our councils that ascendancy And mastery o'er bold hearts, which should have been Mine by a thousand claims.—Had he the strength Of wrongs like mine?— No! for that name—his country— He strikes—my vengeance hath a deeper fount: But there's dark joy in this!—And fate hath barr'd My soul from every other. [Exit Montalba.