University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

Scene I.

—The Roman encampment in Gaul. Tent of Acilius. Enter from tent, as if in conversation, Acilius and Otho.
Acil.
Such is the peril, Otho, to our arms,
Should these fierce Gauls compel us to engage
Ere our new levies reach us. What advise you?

Otho.
Why, when the strong arm fails, the subtle brain
Must make its failure good. In short, my General,
A happy stratagem might save us.

Acil.
Well—
Invent one.

Otho.
No; a child could foil me in
An intrigue. Put me on plain, easy work—
Fighting.

Acil.
These plotting Druids baffle us;
And Gaul would see its life in Rome's protection
But for their tyranny.
Enter Marcus
What is it Marcus?

Marc.
My lord, a vagrant Gaul, who tells us he
Is a deserter, is within our lines
And under guard.

Acil.
There keep him. What's he like?

Marc.
More an Iberian than a Gaul. He'd rather
Poison than strike, or else his looks belie him.

Otho.
Come now, a true deserter, and no spy.

Acil.
(To Marcus.)
Conduct him hither.

[Exit Marcus
Otho.
'Tis no patriot grief
Stamps such a visage.

Acil.
Trust not to a visage.
I've known the deepest villain in all Rome,
Bearing so open and unwrit a brow,
With voice so frank and hearty, smile so genial,
You'd look for a lightning flash from yonder sky,
Rather than guile from him.
(Enter Marcus and Arnulf.)
(To Arnulf.)
Your name?
(Arnulf glances at Marcus, as if to have him dismissed.)
Go, Marcus.
[Exit Marcus
Now?

Arn.
Arnulf, my name.

Acil.
Your motive for desertion?

Arn.
Hate's my motive;
A weakness, I admit but still I have it;
Steady though fierce clear-sighted, though relentless
Hate for inflicted wrongs.

Acil.
And who their author?

Arn.
The council of confederated chiefs,—
Ambron, their leader,—Norma, the high priestess,
Who has them all more abject than her hound
At her least beck.

Otho.
And your offence—what was it?

Arn.
It matters not! Yet, lest you doubt me, hear it:
Lieutenant 'mong the Arverni, I withheld
Gold due a comrade's widow; was for that
Doomed to be scourged and branded,—then degraded
To servile tendance on the army, Desperate
I threw myself at Norma's feet, for she
Could save me, but she gave me to my ruin.

Acil.
Well, Otho?

Otho.
I believe him.

Acil.
(To Arnulf.)
And does Norma
Urge on the war?

Arn.
Proclaims what you'll deny not:
The timely moment and your feeble state.
Roused by her eager words the tribes are arming
For a descent upon you that shall be
Resistless as an unexpected torrent!
But, mark me, Roman, 'tis a woman's will
That guides the impending mischief.

Acil.
And what then?

Arn.
Then, put your hand upon the helm that guides.

Acil.
How? Seize her person?

Arn.
Nay, her will.

Acil.
By bribes?

Arn.
Bribes? No! Not bribes in your sense. This it is
Hedged by her sacred office from the approach
Of youths enamored, Norma now has reached
The first rich bloom of womanhood, unwooed,
But not—I fancy—not unwoo-able,
If we may trust in gender. In her heart
(Waiting its master as the rose its June)
A world of sighs and tears and ecstacies
Lurk to befool her, for she is a woman!
And not fanatic zeal nor iron custom,
Strong as they are, can bind a woman's will.
Guess you my drift?

Acil.
But vaguely. Make it plainer.

Arn.
That duping awe, which frights the simple Gaul
From gazing with a thought of mortal passion
On Norma's beauty, would not dash the Roman.
This briefly then: select some noble youth
From out your ranks—and let his errand be
To woo and wed the priestess—privately.—
As it perforce must be—for she must break
Her vestal vow first, and the penalty
For that is death. But once his wedded wife
He can subdue her to Rome's purposes,
And through her wield or sheathe the Gallic sabre.

Otho.
A rare adventure for some gilded youth!
And, in our present straits, methinks the scheme
Were worth the instant trying.

Acil.
Try it then.

Otho.
I? I should scare her with my beard—and she
Frighten me with her smoothness ten times worse.

Acil.
(To Arnulf.)
What style of wooer would you have us send?

Arn.
A thorough man—yet not so absolute
A man, he cannot freely sport with those
Illusions that do catch a woman's heart,
And make her dream (poor fool) there's such a thing
As love,—O! endless and unchangeable—
A man, in short, can talk, and look, and sigh—
Ay, weep if need be, in extremity.

Acil.
(To Otho.)
Know you of such?

Otho.
I cannot on the moment—
Hold! Is not that Octavian? It is he!
The man for this adventure!

Acil.
The rich knight
Who seeks a battle as one would a revel,
Flying from weariness;—comes here to Gaul
As to an ampler amphitheatre
With games in which he too may bear a part.

Otho.
But still the man we seek. Let me accost him

[Exit.
Arn.
(Aside.)
Now, Ambron, mine shall be a double vengeance!

Acil.
And do your Druids, Gaul, in sacrifice
Shed human blood?

Arn.
Once, freely; rarely now,
Since Norma, paramount in war as peace,
Holds them in check, nay, with extinction threat—

Acil.
A moment wait.
The chosen gallant comes!
(Enter Otho and Octavian.)
Octavian, many welcomes!

Oct.
Salutation!
What wild work's this you've carved for me, my chief?
Is this our Gaul? Well, Gaul, what evil spirit
Has thrust into thy brain this villain plot
'Gainst Norma?

Arn.
Is't a villain plot, to find
A husband for the lady?

Oct.
Husband? Husband?

Arn.
No lover will our Gallic women heed,
Who sues not for the ampler title. They,
Being uncivilized, have still an awkward
Respect for chastity and nuptial faith.

Oct.
Do you hear that, my chief? A husband! I!
No! Find some other victim for the frolic.
What!—run my neck into the noose domestic—
Stand coupled for a life-time with a woman!
Not were she Helen and Pe-nelo-pe,
Aspasia and Lucretia—all in one!

Acil.
'Tis to serve Rome; the marriage will of course
Then be invalid by Rome's highest law!

Oct.
But not by that established here, my chief,
A higher law—a law we cannot break
Without a chafing and a—Tell me, Gaul,
Did you ne'er feel, before a scoundrel action,
A something pulling, tugging at your heart
To bring it right, though never conquering
In the unequal contest?

Arn.
War, my lord,
Levels all nice distinctions. Stratagems
That would be base, as between man and man,
Are to a General's honor—if successful.

Oct.
Success! Ay, that's the consecrating charm
If I do fail, my crime is but a crime;
If I succeed, 'tis inspiration, glory.
The gods think otherwise:—but pardon me—
Believe you in the gods?

Arn.
Religiously.
(Aside.)
That is, not at all.

Oct.
You look like a pious youth!
The gods take up the threads of consequence
To our triumphant sins; and retribution
Comes, shod with wool—but comes.—I play th' haranguer;
Forgive me, friends; I'll further probe this scheme
And straightway join you.

Otho.
(Aside to Octavian.)
Things look bad enough.
We snatch at straws. Do what you can to save us.

[Exeunt Acilius and Otho
Arn.
(To Octavian abstracted.)
My lord!

Oct.
Well, Gaul?

Arn.
I cannot urge it on you.
The peril far outweighs the honor of't.
You go alone—you cross the Gallic lines—
You seek the sacred grove where Norma dwells:—
What are the chances?—That before you reach it
You're seized as a spy and slain. And, should you pierce
Unseen to Norma's presence, there's the risk
Your fair words may not raise the tender thought,
Or even avail to save your forfeit life.

Oct.
True; there's the risk.

Arn.
And should you even succeed—
Should you win Norma—(and believe me, Roman,
The conquest might make even a Cæsar proud)—
You jeopard both your lives and make disclosure
Twice imminent.

Oct.
Proceed. You argue well.

Arn.
(Aside.)
Have I misread my man? (Aloud.)
I've said enough
For your dissuasion.

Oct.
Gaul, what see you there,
Tied to the oak tree?

Arn.
There? A horse who chafes
To break away.

Oct.
'Tis mine. I go to mount him.
Brief the time now between me and my object!

Arn.
Since you wilt rush to the venture 'gainst my urging,
Take this, (shows a small parchment,)
a chart, on which are dotted down
The lines to guide you. Norma's mansion lies
Upon the sunward border of this grove,
Nestled 'mid roses, blossoms of the grape,
And all the odor-shedding flowers and shrubs.
Reach that—and Norma's heart!—and you are safe.

Oct.
(Taking the chart.)
Before I thank you, I must see more clearly
The issue of this bus'ness. You can wait.

[Exit
Arn.
Ah, my fine, fleering blade! for all your scorn
I may requite you too in the general quittance.—
So treads the future victor! He'll not fail.
He takes a hurried leave of them;—he throws
Aside his martial trappings—mounts his horse
And gallops towards the outposts.—So far well!
Now must I get permission to lurk near
And watch him closely, lest he do relent.

[Exit

SCENE II.

A Druidical grove.—A raised altar—, crowned with wreaths of flowers, evergreen, &c. Norma on the steps— Adalgisa, and female attendants near. Druids on either side, and an outer circle of Gallic soldiers, standard bearers, chiefs, &c.—Rudiger, Gontran, Ambron, present.— A short strain of music as the scene opens.
Norma.
Thus do we consecrate your banners, soldiers!
Not from an altar stained with human blood,
Nor yet with sacrifice of beasts. The gods
Abhor the ignorance which would win their favor
By cruelty. No more of that!—We bring
Flowers of the spring-time, roses, blossoming boughs,
And, wreathed o'er all, the sacred misletoe;
Not as gifts needful to the gods, who have
Their amaranthine bowers of endless bloom,—
But as the symbols of our gratitude,
Our worship, our dependence,—of the faith
That keeps its living green 'mid desolation
And clings, though storms would tear it, to the creed
Of life in death—of immortality!—
Not silent are the oracles; the omens
All smile propitious on you, and the answers,
Vouchsafed my prayers, promise an easy triumph
If—if you seize upon the instant time.
Wait not beyond to-morrow! In delay
Thenceforward there's a gloom impenetrable.
(Norma descends from the altar.)
Then rally, Gauls, and rush upon the foe!
For homes, for hearths, for wives and babes, you strike,—
For your free altars and your sacred groves,—
And, above all, for priceless liberty!
You go not forth to ravage, but to rescue;
Not to make desolate a smiling land
And give to the sword old men and shrieking virgins;
But to avert from your own native soil
Such horrors. Then each heart's resolve be this:
No footstep backward till the field is won.
The benedictions of the gods be on you!
Like bucklers be our prayers! The rites are ended.

[Music.—Norma and her train pass out; after them Druids and soldiers, except Rudiger, Goutran, and Ambron; the latter in the background.
Rud.
The rites, the rites! Gontran, she said the rites!
Music for shrieks, and flowers for hecatombs!
Water for blood, and prayers for mystic orgies!
And these are all the rites to win the gods
To favor Gaul's last stake! By such girl's pastime
We hope to make our fathers' gods propitious!
O, Gontran, you and I have seen the day,
Beneath that oak, festooned with roses now,
Fit for a lover's, not a warrior's tryst,
A hundred human lives were offered up
And all this ground was crimson.

Gont.
I remember.
Did it avail though, all that blood and anguish?
Did we not lose the battle?

Rud.
Ay, we lost it.
But—but we had not heeded well the omens
I tell thee, we may date the swift decline
Of Gaul and of the Druids from the day,
Beguiled by Norma, we refused the gods
A human life in sacrifice. What I,
What all the Druids now? unheeded idlers,
Superfluous to the system that a woman
Is building up!

Ambron.
(Who has approached.)
That's very true.

Rud.
Ha! Ambron?

Amb.
Since you deplore the past
And think the gods are craving human blood.
What if I give them some of yours? You shrink!
Ere now I've heard your mutterings. You're of those
Who're ever prating of the good old times
When the priest's function was to play the butcher.
And he could juggle fools with consultations
Of reeking entrails. Now, the country's ruined
Because your filthy shambles are denied you;
Because (so you'd persuade us) the great gods
Are coy for lack of carrion. Do ye hope
Again to sink us to such idiot frenzies?

Rud.
Frenzies? Without the Druids and the culture
They gave the people, you and yours had been
Slaves, savages! Our fathers wrought those frenzies.

Amb.
Our fathers dwelt in caves, went clad in skins,
Roamed like wild beasts for forage. Thanks to Norma,
Your day of blood is over.

Rud.
For the present,
I do admit it, Norma has the power.

Amb.
How gained she it? How gained the people's trust,
The army's reverence? Where you told us lies,
She told us truths. Where you did prophesy
Falsely and wantonly, her careful words
Found their fulfilment. Where to wounded men
You brought your incantations, she brought skill
In bandages and herbs and applications
That soothed and healed, while you could only mutter.
Tempt me no farther by maligning Norma.
I do endure you only, not approve.
Beware lest I do sever with this sword
The slender hold you yet have on the people.
I know you—they shall know you, if you tempt me.

[Exit
Rud.
Are we not fallen indeed, constrained to hear
And to endure such contumely? We—
Your Druid teachers, Gontran—once supreme!
How long is't since Gaul's proudest chief would kneel
To kiss our garment's hem! And now—All this—
All this is Norma's work! Ambron himself
How docile once and reverent! Hear him now!
She has bewitched him!

Gont.
With an honest witchery,—
Her charms!

Rud.
Ha! Should there be a mutual spell!
Should she, in her supremacy, infract
Her vestal vow!—

Gont.
Well: she is absolute—
The people would believe no wrong of her.

Rud.
I know not that. Give us that hold, and then—
Let her be watched! And Gontran, be thou sure
Thy star shall culminate as hers and Ambron's
Plunge in the wave. Come! We will bide our time—
The ancient Druid oak has some sap left.

[Exeunt

SCENE III.

The front of Norma's cottage. Enter from the cottage Norma, meeting Adalgisa, who has entered.
Norma.
Now Adalgisa, why this breathless haste?
What is it? What has happened?

Adal.
In the grove,
Sacred to you, O Norma, and your women,
I met a man.

Nor.
One of the foresters
Who license have, at certain hours, to be there.
A bright discovery, girl!

Adal.
No forester,
A noble chief, more like; though simply clad.

Nor.
Did you not give the alarm?

Adal.
He pleaded with me
In words so strangely fluent—

Nor.
Adalgisa!
You parleyed with him then?

Adal.
I could not help it.
He seized my hand,—

Nor.
And you did let him hold it?

Adal.
I was bewildered. He was on his knees,—

Nor.
You let him kneel?

Adal.
Imploring me to hear him
Ere I betrayed.

Nor.
How could he pass the guard?

Adal.
Many were absent at the consecration.

Nor.
True. I forgot. What Gallic chief would dare
Profane our grounds?

Adal.
O, priestess! he confessed
Himself a Roman.

Nor.
Ha! most like, a spy!
He must be tracked. (Going.)


(Enter Octavian, unnoticed by them.)
Adal.
(Withholding Norma.)
Wait but a few short moments.
Poor at the best his chances of escape!

Oct.
(Aside.)
And 'tis for me she pleads!

Adal.
(Seeing Octavian.)
Ah! This is he!

Nor.
Intruder! Is your life so vile a thing
That you thus venture where 'tis forfeited
Beyond redemption?

Oct.
Nay, I hold it precious,
But 'twere a cheap exchange for this encounter.

Nor.
'Tis doubly forfeited: first as our foe—

Oct.
Not thine, O noble lady!

Nor.
Then, as daring
To invade these precincts. Adalgisa, go
Summon the sacred guard. ... Wilt thou obey?
[Exit Adalgisa reluctantly.
(Aside.)
He heard me, yet he heeds not! (To Oct.)
Are you mad?
Found here, your life will not be long enough
For a last prayer. Fly, Roman, while you may!
He will not stir! Do you then court your doom?

Oct.
'Twill not be hard, after your anger, lady.

Nor.
My anger? I'm not angry. I could weep, tho',
Vexed to thus see you trifle with your time.
Away!

Oct.
To be thus banished from your presence,
Is it not worse than death?

Nor.
Then stay, perverse one,
And give a woman's eyes the spectacle
Of a swift, violent end! .... Why are you here?

Oct.
Thou see'st:—to look on Norma!

Nor.
Every moment
Speeds on your danger. Hark!

Oct.
Regard it not.
Bear with me through the interval, and then
Let the swift death come down!

Nor.
Inexplicable!
Were you a spy,—

Oct.
I should not linger here!

Nor.
Your name?

Oct.
Octavian.

Nor.
And your birth-place?

Oct.
Rome.

Nor.
The worse for you! Rome? The imperious city!
The splendid murderess! Sending armies forth
To earth's remotest climes to kill and ravage,
Enslave and plunder and depopulate!
Rome? Malediction, ruin and despair
On Rome! In what have we offended Rome?
Have we infringed her borders? Threatened her—
Wronged her in any way? She cannot say it!
But the gods do not sleep. Rome's day will come!

Oct.
Couldst thou but see Rome in her glory, lady,
Her temples, arches, amphitheatres,
And the full tide of life that throbs and pours
Along her avenues—

Nor.
What to me her pomp?
Temples? We have them in our groves of oak,
Ampler than her Ca-pito-line. For arches,
Behold the vista of yon stately trees!
And, would you see an amphitheatre,
Pause on the slope of yonder towering hill!

Oct.
Fairer than all, the abode where Norma dwells!
Here might the wanderer pause, and cry content!
Fate! give me here to dwell, and let the world
Roll on with all its pageants. Every tree,
The vines, the trellised roses, and the shrubs
Do seem more fragrant and more beautiful
Because of Norma's love and Norma's care!—
If I did vaunt Rome's grandeur, 'twas to add
That yonder bower were dearer to Octavian
Than her imperial gardens. I could tell thee
Such tales of Rome, her glory and her guilt—
Her heroes, poets—

Nor.
(Subdued.)
Poets?

Oct.
Hast thou heard
Of any?

Nor.
Ay! ... Hark! Leave me! You refuse still?
Have you no friends, no kindred will deplore you
Looking for your return, long, long in vain?

Oct.
Remind me not of that.

Nor.
Have you no mother?

Oct.
Ay, one so fond, she spoiled me.

Nor.
You've a sister?

Oct.
A precious one!

Nor.
And you've perhaps a wife?

Oct.
No, on my soul, no wife. Had I a wife,
I had not ventured thus.

Nor.
What frenzy led you
Into this hazard?

Oct.
Love ... I dreamed of Norma—
Dreamed—but her presence beggars all I dreamed
Of noble and most lovely.

Nor.
Trebly forfeit
Is your life now.

Oct.
I know it.

Nor.
Sacrilege
Is in your words.

Oct.
I know it. But consider:
If I approach thee with less awe than love,
To me, adoring other gods than thine,
Thou'rt but a peerless woman, not a priestess.

Nor.
So! I begin to fathom you. You hope,
I, in my woman's weakness, now will spare you
Because of these soft flatteries, coined so aptly.

Oct.
Lady! a taunt upon a Roman's courage
Is sharp as one on Norma's purity:
To any face but hers I'd say as false.
(Going, and speaking in a loud voice.)
What, ho! Who hears?

Nor.
(Stopping him)
Hold! Hush!

Oct.
Sound the alarm!
Come forth!

Nor.
I do beseech you!

Oct.
Will none hear?

Nor.
I wronged you. Pardon me.

Oct.
O! pardon me,
Bright excellence, that thus intruding, I
Have dared to—

(Enter Adalgisa.)
Nor.
(Eagerly.)
Adalgisa! Back so quickly?
Are they at hand? Speak! Do I hear their tramp?
Thou'rt prompt, when human life is in the balance.

Adal.
Such labyrinths the foresters have made!
Running with headlong haste, I missed the path,
And took one that has brought me here again.

Oct.
(Aside.)
I knew she'd miss the path

Nor.
And thou art here,
Thy errand unfulfilled? This thy obedience?

Adal.
Be not offended. Instantly I'll go
And try again.

Nor.
No. I have those within
Need not a second bidding ere they heed me.
Go to the temple. Stay! No word, I charge thee,
Of this event. Begone.
[Exit Adalgisa
There's yet a chance
Of safety for you, Roman. Take that path,
Keep in the thickest of the wood till nightfall,
Then speed to your encampment.

Oct.
Quitting thee,
Perchance forever? Urge me not to that.

Nor.
What would you do?

Oct.
Dwell near thee;—see thee—hear thee!

Nor.
Impossible! This once, by a kind marvel,
Detection has o'erlooked you. Such a chance
May not again befriend.

Oct.
That is my risk.
Here I remain.

Nor.
Audacious! On your head
Then be your blood.

[Exit
Oct.
Ha! Gone? Of all my shafts
Not one sent home to the mark! Void all my art?
How did I blunder in my wooing? Ovid!
Thou art a traitor!—No, thou'rt not.—She comes.

(Enter Norma.)
Nor.
(Aside.)
Threats move him not:
Persuasion may. (To Oct.)
My purpose rests suspended
You see! I shrink from pushing on the peril
Your life already stands in: but be sure,
'Tis not for you—not that I care for you,
More than for any straggler of your camp,
That I recoil from seeing you struck down.
Beware of such presumptions—they are dangerous.
I show you mercy I would show to any.

Oct.
If Norma spares me but to show her scorn,
'Tis cruelty, not mercy.

Nor.
Solve me this:
What should he do who truly loved me?

Oct.
Do?
Lay down his life for thee as eagerly
As crown his temples with the bridegroom's wreath.

Nor.
What's more than life?

Oct.
Love, honor.

Nor.
You say true—
Honor—a woman's honor! Sully that
With but suspicion—and she is a ruin.
Innocent, she may smile on desolation
And grow the prouder for the world's traducing.
Guilty, she smiles no more—except in mockery—
And she is crushed indeed. You may suppose,
Lacking Rome's culture, we more lightly prize
Womanhood's crown of virtue: know then, Roman,
The Gaul who's held a coward is less scorned
Than she the wanton. If among the people,
Bound by no oaths, obscure, unconsecrated,
Our maidens keep a spotless fame, shall I,—
Chief ministress between the gods and them
And all—thus parley with the man who dares
Accost me in a language which to hear
Alone is crime? Each moment that you linger,
While I omit denouncing and exposing,
'Tis not your life alone is jeoparded,—
My peace, my good report, my sacred honor,
All—all are on the verge!

Oct.
(Aside.)
She moves me!—No!
Not to save Rome will I molest her more.
(To Norma.)
I go. Forgive me, Norma. In my trespass,
Believe me, not a thought of profanation
Did mingle ever. In my heart I bear
(If my good stars shall guide me forth in safety)
Treasures not there before, for which I thank thee,—
Thy image and the memory of thy goodness!
Farewell! The gods, whose fit interpreter
Thou art, defend thee ever!

[Exit
Nor.
He is gone!
Gone, too, with step as free as if he trod
To sport instead of danger. Peace go with him! ...
Tears? Did I weep then when he took his leave?
Well: what of that? If he had been a beggar,
Mean and uncouth, I should have wept the same—
Indeed I should! I weep at veriest trifles—
A wounded bird—some story of old time—
Mere fiction, 't may be. (Looking off.)
Ah! he takes the road
Must lead to certain peril. (Calling.)
Ho! Not that!
The left! the left!—With what a luminous smile,
Yet sad, he waves his thanks—then moves away—
Away forever from me! ... Footsteps? Hark!
Foresters? Ha! They go to cross his track—
They will detect—arrest him. (Calling.)
Roman! Stop!
Return!—He will not hear me, or not heed.—
Roman!—Will nothing turn him then?—Octavian!
Ah! now he hears. (Goes to the opposite side of the stage, listens.)

Are voices this way, too?
Ay, but too surely! Ruin all around!
How shall I save him? Bid him enter there
In my own sacred dwelling? Never! Rather
I'd perish with him. Yet—
(Enter Octavian.)
You've stayed too long.
You'll be detected. Scouts on every side
Traverse the forest. O! why came you here?
I cannot shelter you. Impossible!
Nearer they come, and nearer.

Oct.
Stay not, Norma;
On me be all the peril. With my sword
I'll make a lane through fifty foresters.

Nor.
Madness! Resistance—death! Go in! go in!
Quick! And hide there till nightfall.

Oct.
Noble lady,
I thank thee, but I cannot.

Nor.
In, I say.

Oct.
A Roman, Norma, will not be outdone
In generous daring by a woman. No!
I'll not subject thee to the ruinous chance
Such hospitality may bring upon thee.
I'll meet them yonder.

Nor.
(Withholding him.)
No. You shall not do it.
Go in!

Oct.
I'll not.

Nor.
Go! ... if you love me, go!
(Octavian abruptly goes in.)
So! I've at last compelled him. But that word—
Why did I give it utterance? Ha! how wildly
My heart is throbbing, as 'twould leap to the light!—
Footsteps again?—My limbs sink under me.
I've not the strength to drag me—where? Within?
Into his presence? Oh! what powerful Fate
Has of a sudden seized me in its arms?
But it shall not detain me! Loose thy hold!
Away! I will go free! I will. ... Ah me!
Weak, weak—I faint—

(Enter Octavian, who supports her.)
Oct.
Let me support thee in.

(As he supports her, voices are heard without—Norma breaks from him.)
Nor.
No! Go you in. I ask it. I will come,
When I am calmer, and confer with you.

[Exit Octavian; Norma in a different direction.