University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE THIRD.

Rosmunda, Romilda.
Ros.
Advance, advance, incomparable virgin;
Come; and securely in my sight remain,
While war is waged for thee in yonder camp.
Come near, approach ... Thou tremblest?

Rom.
Merciful Heaven!
Around the city horrid shrieks are heard,
And seem advancing towards the palace gates ...
But, ah! with what new fury do I see
Thy troubled countenance inflamed? ... no more
Is it allowed to me to hope for joy ...
Only that Ildovaldo is released ...
Ah! may he yet be living! ... I beseech thee
From such a doubt deliver me.

Ros.
From doubt
Deliver thee, while I myself exist
In deadly doubt? Ah, mayest thou for ever
Drag on a life as horrible and wretched
As these wild hours, by thy means, are to me!
For thee all rush to arms; a second Helen!
A prize unparallel'd! For thee are shed
Rivers of blood to-day: husbands for thee
Are perjured: cowards for thy sake are valiant,
And haughty the dispirited.—Oh thou,
The arbitress of heroes, hither come;
Sit by my side in queen-like majesty;
Now in the camp is battle waged for thee,
That thou mayst have a throne ... or death.

Rom.
And what?
Wouldst thou deride me still?—art thou not yet
With such unnumber'd insults satisfied?

Ros.
What sayst thou? I alone am here derided:
Of all my fury, of the just revenge
That I against thee cherish, of my deep
Immitigable jealousy, art thou
Prepared to reap the precious fruits: 'tis I
That crown thee with supreme contentment; I
That place thee in thy wish'd-for lover's arms.
Thou seest in such a tempest of my heart
What small alleviation words afford.
Me, me thou mockest, and with too just cause.—
I've burst the fetters of thy Ildovaldo;
And his invincible right hand have arm'd
Already with the sword; he now fulfils
My just revenge; and while fulfilling mine,
Thine, thine a thousand fold he consummates.

Rom.
Oh may at least that arm invincible
Be now triumphant! Thus thou canst alone
Cancel the stigma of thy former crime.
Yes, now a ray of hope illumes my prospect,
Since in the camp, released from shameful fetters,
My Ildovaldo stands. Ah! may the heavens
Grant thee a life less turbid ...

Ros.
I survive
To drag along a horrible existence,
Whate'er the event. Do thou enjoy my grief;
Already over thine have I exulted;
Enjoy that grief since I forbid thee not ...
But perhaps ... What prayers shall I put up to heaven? ...
I am bewilder'd ... Hitherto I know
My supplications have all been for blood;
Yet do I see no blood that can appease me ...
And shall another where I'm cursed be happy?—
Soon shall we see ... But who approaches here? ...

Rom.
A little armed band ... And Ildovaldo
Is at their head. Oh joy! ..