 | Eudora |  |
SCENE VII.
RAYMOND, UBERTO, GUARDS, &c.RAYMOND,
(advancing to the litter.)
Friend of my heart, how does thy gentle nature
Reign in thy visage, still unmarred by death!
UBERTO.
O were there aught of life—
No, 'tis too late!—He's in the grasp of death,
And I in torture—bear him to the palace!
Thither, ye men of justice, follow me,
I am your willing, your determined victim!
(Exeunt.
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