University of Virginia Library

IV.

Francesca. Bertram. Friar.
Bertram.
Ah! now is Heaven most merciful! She comes!
She glides, a form of light, athwart the darkness;
I see her radiant beauties, starr'd by Heaven
With supernatural brightness; and I feel
The lightness of a breath, that's balm for angels,
Uplift me as with wings! Oh! blessed being,
That hallowest where thou com'st—how doth thy presence
Prepare me for the sacrifice! One moment;
I shut mine eyes in doubt! I open them
Once more to rapture! Dost thou see, old man?
Thy lips had spoken curses as from Heaven—
Lo! now, its angel!

Francesca,
[to the Friar.]
Hence, father, to Leoni.

Bertram.
Leoni! Can she speak of him—Leoni!

Francesca,
[to the Friar.]
He summons thee! He needs thee! Hence with speed!

Friar.
Then hast thou answer'd wisely. All goes well!
I leave thee.

Francesca,
[to the Friar.]
Hence!