SCENE IX.
SYLVEYRA, CONSTANTIA, VELORA.
CONSTANTIA.
Alone! my son! did we not hear this moment
The voice of Castro, terrible in anger?
SYLVEYRA.
O! let me banish from your gentle bosoms
This fond excess of fear!
VELORA.
My loved Sylveyra!
You hide the fatal truth!—his frantic passion
Has dared to threaten, your most precious life:
I know it has.
SYLVEYRA.
Believe me, dear Velora—
VELORA.
If this weak beauty can produce such horror,
May Heaven resume its gift, and I will call
Deformity a blessing!
SYLVEYRA.
Teach me, Heaven!
To calm this cruel agony of terror!
CONSTANTIA.
Reflect, dear daughter, that I keep concealed
A mystery of such important nature,
As may preserve us in severer perils!
SYLVEYRA.
Name it! and save her from these killing fears!
CONSTANTIA.
Alas! my son, I have a tale to tell thee
Of such high moment to thy peace and honor,
That it requires long hours of coolest leisure
To unfold it as I ought.
