University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

RAYMOND, VERINO.
VERINO.
(entering.)
O my brave son! come to thy father's arms,
And pour thy spirit in this aged heart!

RAYMOND.
My lord! my father! tis to you I owe
The little value, which your son can boast;
To you, as to its judge, my grateful heart
Has ever bowed; each action of my life
Has ta'en its color from your voice alone;
Fame was imperfect, till confirmed by you:
And what is slander, which you disbelieve?

VERINO.
Shame to the wretch, who can behold thee Raymond,
And think thou art a villain; but my son,
What strange mysterious troubles hover o'er thee!
Whence are these wonders? and what murd'rous hand
Has ta'en the prince's life, and aims at thine?

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Tell me, my son, how far thine eyes have pierced
Into this scene of darkness!