University of Virginia Library

Scene VI.

Another part of the Field.
Procida. Guido. And other Sicilians.
Procida.
The day is ours; but he, the brave unknown,
Who turn'd the tide of battle; he whose path
Was victory—who hath seen him?

Alberti is brought in wounded, and fettered.
Alberti.
Procida!

Pro.
Be silent, traitor!—Bear him from my sight
Unto your deepest dungeons.

Alb.
In the grave
A nearer home awaits me.—Yet one word
Ere my voice fail—thy son—

Pro.
Speak, speak!

Alb.
Thy son
Knows not a thought of guilt. That trait'rous plot
Was mine alone.

(He is led away!
Pro.
Attest it, earth and heaven!
My son is guiltless!—Hear it, Sicily!
The blood of Procida is noble still!
—My son!—He lives, he lives!—His voice shall speak
Forgiveness to his sire!—His name shall cast
Its brightness o'er my soul!

Guido.
Oh, day of joy!
The brother of my heart is worthy still
The lofty name he bears.

Anselmo enters.
Pro.
Anselmo, welcome!
In a glad hour we meet, for know, my son
Is guiltless.

Ans.
And victorious! by his arm
All hath been rescued.

Pro.
How! th'unknown—

Ans.
Was he!
Thy noble Raimond! By Vittoria's hand
Freed from his bondage in that awful hour
When all was flight and terror.

Pro.
Now my cup
Of joy too brightly mantles!—Let me press
My warrior to a father's heart—and die;
For life hath nought beyond!—Why comes he not?
Anselmo, lead me to my valiant boy!

Ans.
Temper this proud delight.

Pro.
What means that look
He hath not fallen?

Ans.
He lives.

Pro.
Away, away!
Bid the wide city with triumphal pomp
Prepare to greet her victor. Let this hour
Atone for all his wrongs!—

[Exeunt.