University of Virginia Library

Scene II.—On the way to Execution.

—A large company of Republicans marching along; Diana and Francesco in their midst. They all sing:
Chorus—
We are passing along to our agony red;
We are doomed, we are stricken, made one with the dead.

Diana.—
Yet a hope doth remain.

Chorus—
For the people we die; for the people we go
Towards the swords that are sharpened, the faggots that glow.

Franc.—
But we heed not the pain.

Chorus—
There are two that have drunk of a pleasure so deep
That they heed not the time—they are sunk in a sleep.

Diana.—
We see clearer than ye.

Chorus—
A lover has played with the loose sweet hair
Of his lady so long that he heeds not the snare.

Franc.—
'Tis no trap set for me.

Chorus—
When love can make strong twain souls with his song,
And annihilate death by the bloom of the breath
Of woman, there's hope in spite of the rope,
And chance of reward in the track of the sword,
And pleasure to gain in the pathway of pain,
And a clamour of lyres in the midst of the fires—

Franc.—
And loveliest flowers in these last hours,
Rich roses in bloom round the sides of the tomb,
And a glory to save in the mouth of the grave—

Diana.—
And a God to defend at the uttermost end
And to raise from the dead—'tis to life we are led—
But a passing breath is the wind of our death;
The sun of our day shall abide alway.
So be of good cheer—deliverance is near;
Our Republic to save we pass to the grave.
Francesco, remember—thou hast thy rose?

Franc.—
On my bosom a peerless blossom it glows.

Diana.—
Dost thou fear? I fear not—I think not, at least.

Franc.—
Nay, lady! my vision on thee I can feast.

Diana.—
And I feast my vision on God most high;

Franc.—
And I upon thee—it is sweet to die;

Diana.—
Yea, sweet, for God and my lover are nigh;

Franc.—
Calm, lady, and clear is the glance of thine eye;

Diana.—