Chapter VI: Act III: SCENE I.--View of corbey abbey, open country and chateau

_Enter countess_ Roland _and attendants._

_Count._ How fortunate! how very fortunate! Whilst I was in pursuit of that low wretch, call'd Christopher, I call'd in at the marquis Alberti's, and heard the welcome news, that my nephew, count Roland, and his falconers were almost instantly expected! Charming! delightful! tho' I didn't see him when he visited Roland castle--though this will be our first, I trust it won't be our last meeting; for, in my mind, his real motive is not to see the good old marquis, but a young fair one, called Ulrica. Oh! if it prove as I suspect, I'll match these hesitating Ravensburgs!

[_Going into the chateau._

Oliver _enters from it._

_Ol._ Oh, madam, I'm so glad you're come, for what with the prince, and the baron being absent, and my poor Agnes not yet return'd and the poor lock'd up lady Ulrica yonder (_pointing to a window in the chateau_) sighing for her cousin Christopher! I was just saying, anybody's company would be better than nobody's.

_Count._ Cousin Christopher, the unknown impostor I'm in search of. And after I have so convinced the baron!--

_Ol._ I know--I know you have convinced the baron, that you've no poor Franconia relations; but I do say, as the lady Ulrica has no objection, I wish this Christopher were her husband, (_countess frowns._) I do; for in that case, she not being able to marry my young master, and my young master being able to marry Agnes, I should see what I hav'n't seen since I lost my sweet Seraphina! a real happy handsome couple.

_Count._ Show me in, Sir; and instead of chattering about my pretended nephew Christopher, talk of my real nephew, count Roland! who, though to me a stranger, is none to the lady Ulrica, as you call her. (_Horns without._) Hark! he comes! count Roland comes! and, as I thought--see! towards Ulrica's residence! to sigh and moan under his true-love's window!--Now for it. I'll just step in, and give further orders for pursuing this sham nephew, Christopher; and then, if I don't match old baron Ravensburg, and his capricious son, say I'm no match-maker.

_Exit into the chateau, preceded by Oliver._

_Enter count_ Roland _and 1st Falconer._

_Count._ Behold the beauties of this far-fam'd spot, and foremost to delight the traveller's eye, yon venerable Abbey! founded by him whose laurels shall for ever bloom.

_1st. Falc._ And see, my lord, yonder is the marquis Alberti's chateau.

_Count._ Happy Alberti! who having brav'd the perils of the ocean, now finds a haven in his faithful Ella's love. Oh! I shall ne'er forget the day they parted, nor that tempestuous night, when many a shipwreck'd mariner was lost.

SONG--_Count._

I.

Says Ella to her love, "remember
Though doom'd to part, you constant view
That moon, which rises in such splendour,
I too, will look, and think of you.
Anxious Ella shall not sleep
Whilst her sailor braves the deep."

II.

But tempestuous is the weather,
And lovely Ella's wish is crost,
Vain her watching nights together,
Successive moons in clouds are lost.
Stormy winds the forests sweep,
Whilst her sailor braves the deep.

III.

Swift to the shore she flies, complaining;
The tempest to her pray'r is deaf;
When lo! that orb she's so arraigning,
Shines forth, and shows her lover safe.
Now no more shall Ella weep,
For her sailor's brav'd the deep.

_Enter all the_ Falconers.

_Count._ Now for my friend Alberti's, and there learn more of this same countess Roland.

_Enter_ Christopher.

_Chris._ My lord, I have announced your coming, and the marquis is all impatience. But what do you think? When I sent up your lordship's message, who should be of the party but my aunt, the countess? And one of the marquis's retinue wanted me to take courage, and go up to her--"for," says he, "if she has'n't seen you since you were a boy, and she took up your cousin, Ulrica, on account of her uncommon beauty, who knows, if she once saw you----" You understand, my lord--I'm certainly improved.

(_Pulling up his collar._)

_Count._ Improv'd! So much, that at first sight, my life on't, you'll charm the countess.

_Chris._ His words! his very words! and I certainly charmed Ulrica! But then--psha! ridiculous!--you all flatter!--and aunt's there!--(_pointing to the chateau_)--and Ulrica's there!--and tonight makes her wife to that old pedigreed--(_here the countess appears at the door of the chateau unobserved, looks out, and listens._) So go all of ye--go to the marquis Alberti's, and leave me to sob and sigh--Oh, sweet Ulrica!--Oh! h! ha!

_Count._ Well, as it suits--and so good night, most noble love-sick swain.

_Falc._ Good night, most noble nephew of the countess Roland.

[_Bowing as before, and with_ count _exeunt_ falconers. Christopher _with his back to the_ countess, _bows in return--She advances from chateau all joy and triumph, and exultingly goes towards him--countess advancing from the house._

_Count._ (_aside and unseen by Christopher._) So, most noble nephew of the countess Roland.

_Chris._ Oh, sweet Ulrica! Oh, most savage--(_turns, and comes against countess._) Mercy! do I see right?

_Count._ You see your aunt, the countess Roland, who regrets extremely she didn't see you on your last visit--but you saw Ulrica; and if, as I presume, you come once more to see her--(_Christopher more and more frightened._) You do; your looks, your fears, your agitation proves it; and to end at once yours, hers, and my anxiety--Ulrica!

_Chris._ Don't--don't alarm the family! Upon my honour. (_appealing._)

_Count._ When I selected the son of baron Ravensburg, I hadn't the honor of knowing my charming nephew. (_curtsying very low, Christopher staring, and beginning to brighten up._) But now I do know him! lest the baron should return and spoil the present glorious opportunity--Ulrica! (_Ulrica appears at the window._) Look, who's here--and at first sight, he has so won my favour; and so excells these paltry Ravensburgs, that, if you choose to be released, and instantly receive my dear lov'd nephew's suit----

_Ul._ I'll try, aunt.

_Count._ And you! (_to Christopher._)

_Chris._ I'll try, aunt.

_Count._ (_hastily going to the door of the chateau._) Oliver! the priest has long been waiting. (_to Christopher._)

_Chris._ (_going to the door and calling loudly._) Oliver!

_Enter_ Oliver

Show in the nephew of the countess Roland. (_Oliver shows astonishment, and looks at the countess, who nods assent._) You see! Conduct me to my lov'd betrothed Ulrica. (_countess nods assent, and gives Christopher the key of Ulrica's apartment._) You see! Lead on, my little twaddling old butler. Lol de rol, lel lol! (_exit, kissing his hand to countess and Ulrica, and making Oliver go in before him._)

_Count._ There! There's match-making, and here----

_Enter_ baron Ravensburg _and attendants._

So, sir--have you found your runaway son?

_Bar._ I have, countess--I've trac'd him to Corbey abbey, and he's so closely pursued, that I shall soon employ the priest now, and make amends for my low suspicions about that rascally impostor! that fellow, with his Franconian express! I know, except your niece----

_Count._ (_haughtily._) I have a nephew, Sir, a nephew now in the chateau, whose name you may have heard. Count Roland, sir.

_Bar._ In my--in my chateau? I've seen--I know count Roland--and such a guest I so rejoice to welcome. (_going hastily towards the door; Oliver re-enters meeting him._)

_Ol._ And I rejoice! and my lady, my young master, and Agnes may rejoice! for the priest, quite worn out with waiting for one couple, is now marrying another--is marrying the lady Ulrica to your nephew! He! he! he!

_Bar._ (_to countess._) Marrying Ulrica to your nephew.

_Count._ To _my_ nephew, sir--to a man as far above the Ravensburgs in rank, as in accomplishments!

_Ul._ (_throwing open the window_) aunt! we're married aunt!

_Count._ Transporting sight! There! (_to the baron._) Married to her cousin, great count Roland!

_Chris._ (_putting his head out of the window._) No, to me! to cousin Christopher! who said, all along, that aunt would be as kind to poor, as rich relations! and who on the baron's giving him his choice, this morning walked _out_ of the chateau; but, now, having sent the promised express, and expecting all his Franconia cousins, says, "in," till the honey-moon's over!

[_Shutting the window immediately, and he and Ulrica disappear._

_Bar._ There he is again! there's the nephew of the countess Roland!

_Count._ 'Tis false! and I'll be instantly reveng'd!

_Bar._ And so will I?

[_As they are going into the chateau._

QUINTETTO.

_Bar._ Rage inspires me.

_Count._ Madness fires me.

_Both._ I'll the slave to pieces tear!

_Enter_ Oliver _from the house._

_Ol._ Sorrow banish,
Anger vanish,
Come and bless the wedded pair!

_Count._ Plague,

_Bar._ Confound,

_Both._ The wedded pair!

_Enter_ Ulrica _from the house._

_Ul._ As late I travers'd yonder plain,
I heard a pilgrim worn with pain,
A trav'ller thus addressing:
"What can't be cur'd
Must be endur'd,
But pray, kind friend, your blessing."

_Chris. at_ } "What can't be cur'd
_the window._ } Must be endur'd,
} But pray, kind friend, your blessing."

_Ul._ You hear (_to baron_)--and you (_to countess._)

_Bar._ } We do! we do!
_Count._ }

_Ul._ And you agree! (_coaxing them._)
I see--I see!
We've liberty!

_All._ Love, true love is crown'd with glory!
_Viva--viva con amore!_

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.--_The interior of the abbey._

_Enter the_ abbot _and_ Agnes.

_Ab._ An unknown orphan, named Agnes Lindorf, by him, your benefactor!

_Ag._ By baron Ravensburg, whose son has so befriended me. But I detain you from most urgent duty. The great, the good, all, all advance to grace your installation.

_Ab._ They do. But he, this baron, you suspect may know the motive for your accusation? (_Agnes accords._) Oh that I knew! for I would court each, the most trifling circumstance, still further to destroy your fell accuser's hopes. Well, well, they are destroyed! Long ere this dark tribunal had a name, ages had sanction'd our monastic rights. And let but your protecting friend arrive, you may pass free from this devoted land, to one where unmask'd justice sits in open day, and prince and peasant meet with equal hearing.

_Ag._ We may, we may--and live to recompense thy matchless kindness. But still these awful these enrag'd avengers! Why, why does he delay?

_Enter_ St. Clair.

_St. Clair._ My lord, a stranger!

_Ag._ (_looking out._) 'Tis he! 'tis Ravensburg!

[_Exit St. Clair._

_Enter_ Ravensburg.

Welcome! Oh welcome! Behold the man (_pointing to the abbot_) who scorning prejudic'd, corrupt compliance--(_Ravensburg turns away, and hides his face._) Hah! that look! those tears!

_Rav._ For thee they fall, and for thy more than father! I've watch'd, I've hasten'd from my fell associates--(_abbot starts_)--Ay, I, by oath, am sworn to be the deadly foe of Agnes, and of all who give her aid. But when I know that she deserves that aid, and that this boasted institution's power is made subservient to such lawless crime, as ancient record of tyrannic guilt can give no proof of, I trust that he, who boldly shall retract such oath, is deem'd less guilty in the eye of Heaven, than he who cowardly fulfills it. This for myself--for you, who, singly, have oppos'd this hydra of rapacious power, and in a glorious cause, claim'd the just right of sanctuary and of pardon--how will you meet the tenfold horrors that will soon burst forth on till within these walls!

_Ag._ On all!

_Ab._ They cannot--dare not!

_Rav._ They dare! for her escape discover'd, they sent forth sanguinary knights, who soon return'd, and in full council stated, that one, most nobly acting on his founder's edict, defied their power, and pardon'd the condem'd! All murmur'd, and all menac'd! till I, declaiming on the glaring outrage of those, who call'd themselves a sacred band, disputing sacred rights, had gain'd some proselytes, when the prince Palatine appear'd, and, like the torrent from the mountain's brow, assailed each obstacle, and swept down all before him!

_Ab._ (_after a struggle._) Well! the result?

_Rav._ Most savage, most inevitable! for while in force they come to claim their victim, you, and the brotherhood, are all proscribed for treason and for sacrilege!

_Ag._ And this! this havoc is my causing! mine! a poor orphan! whose death no kindred will deplore, whilst the whole world will mourn my kind defender's loss! My lord, 'tis past! lov'd friend, farewell! and if one victim will appease their rage, I'll hail the sacrifice, and die contented. [_Going._

_Ab._ (_stopping her._) Die first this hated despot! who, ever, fiend-like, strikes his envious fangs, where Heaven most loves, and man's most bound to guard! I pardon! I give sanctuary! and whilst one spark of ebbing life glows here, whilst one small fragment of these walls remain, that fragment may be stained with dire assassin's blood! but a poor orphan, who, I know is innocent, shall live to soar and triumph o'er her foes! Let them advance! ourselves, our abbey, can support some contest, and youn pright power! that watches o'er the virtuous, will combat in our cause!--(_drums and trumpets heard at a short distance._) Hark! they come!

_Ag._ They do! they do! and see! the prince, in person, leads the furious band! Look! there! behold!

[Ravensburg _looks out._ Abbot _turns away._

_Ab._ Not, not for worlds, lest, maddening at the sight, I lose all memory of holy function, and rush to strike the murderer of my peace dead in his army's presence! Villain! barbarian!----(_weeps._) Oh! the day has been, when these, fair nature's brightest gems, hung on my cheek as emblems of pure sympathy! But now, like drops of fire, they serve to light the brand of discord and revenge!--come--to the sanctuary!

_Rav._ Unequall'd man! fit guardian of such rights--speak! can my arm--

_Ab._ (_taking him aside._) Your father--mark--your father may have heard why she is called Manfredi's daughter. I would know this, and all that you can learn. Now, whilst there's hope, away--and this (_giving him a key_) secures your private entrance through the western gate upon the river's edge.

_Rav._ I'll seek my father, ascertain each fact, and, fear not, Agnes! the pangs of parting will be paid at meeting!

_Ab._ 'Twill do! 'twill prosper! And my great founder's edict thus revived--should they persist in prostituting justice's name, I will throw wide my abbey-gates, and pardoning all they dare proscribe, make it a bulwark 'gainst the common foe! Come--away! [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.--_a road near Corbey._

_Enter_ Christopher.

_Chris._ So, this is the place of meeting--from hence we were to start for Franconia--and not here! Ulrica not yet come! Mighty well! our marriage but an hour old, and keep her husband waiting!

_Enter_ Ulrica.

So, you begin, madam--you torment already.

_Ul._ Why, if I do torment, Christopher its only to please you the more--it is upon my honour.

_Chris._ Please by tormenting! how, madam?

_Ul._ Ay, ask the god of love, if it isn't--

_Chris._ Yes; but where am I to find him?

_Ul._ True--where is love to be found?

SONG--_Ulrica._

I.

Where does the urchin love abide?
Whence does he point his dart?
Say, does he with the doves reside?
Or dwells he in the heart?

II.

No fixt abode the traitor knows--
On sportive wings he flies;
Awhile he dallies with the rose,
Then smiles in lovers' eyes.

_Chris._ He does--in mine; and now I'll tell you--'Tis all out, and I've within me the true, real Roland blood. It seems, the strange old count had privately made aunt his wife; but his estate descending with his title, she thought she might support her rank, by getting for her niece a famous husband--and she has got one, hasn't she, Ulrica?

_Ul._ She has--but, seriously, think not that I staid from idle motives. Poor Agnes has found shelter in Corbey abbey; but the prince and the avenging knights, march in full force to batter down its walls.

_Chris._ Indeed!

_Ul._ Now--now I heard it from the noble Ravensburg, who seeks his father, to hear the whole of Agnes's hapless story. And my aunt's influence no more prevailing, perhaps the baron will relent--at least, I hope so.

_Chris._ So do I--and we won't stir.

_Ul._ No, not while one glimmering hope remains of Agnes's safety and her foes' defeat.

_Chris._ No, that we won't--but go, and plead in her behalf. [_Kissing_ Ulrica's _hand._

_Ul._ That I will; and doubt not, Christopher--Heaven still will guard the unprotected orphan!

[_Exit._

_Chris._ Never--never was couple so match'd! so much alike in all that's amiable and lovely! Oh, when we arrive in Franconia! I know one of our neighbours, who will be all envy--baron Donderdronckdickdorff; for though his wife treats him with the most sovereign contempt, he is still obliged to look up to her.

SONG--_Christopher._

I.

Baron Donderdronckdickdorff said, one summer's day,
"Tho' wedlock's a word that revolts,
Whatever our folks in Westphalia may say,
I've a great mind to marry miss Quoltz.
For of all the dear angels that live near the Weser,
Miss Quoltz is the stoutest and tallest;
Tho' of all German barons ambitious to please her,
I know I'm the shortest and smallest."
How I should like the marriage waltz
To dance with thee, my lovely Quoltz!

II.

Poor Donderdronckdickdorff, with amorous phiz,
On tiptoe imparted his flame,
"Ah! baron!" she sigh'd, "what a pity it is,
You are not half so long as your name!"
"If names," said the baron, "were smaller or bigger,
To suit ev'ry size at a pinch,
Your name, dear miss Quoltz, to keep up to your figure,
Wou'd measure six foot and an inch."
How I should like, &c.

III.

The wedding-day fix'd, both the parties agreed,
That the peasants should dance German waltzes,
And drink to the future mix'd long-and-short breed
Of the Donderdronckdickdorffs and Quoltzes.
To the church, then, on foot, went the ace with his size--
"What's this crowd for?" cries one of the people.
"For a baron, who's taking," an arch wag replies,
"A morning's walk under the steeple."
How I should like, &c.

IV.

Before supper, one knight, ere the honey-moon fled,
They so quarrell'd some wives wou'd have struck him;
But the baroness took up the lord of her bed,
And over the chimney-piece stuck him.
As the servant came in, said the baron, "you clown,
Not a word when the guests come to sup:
I have only been giving my wife a set-down,
And she giving me a set-up."
How I should like, &c. [_Exit._

SCENE IV.--_The grand aisle of the abbey, in the upper part of the sanctuary._

_Enter_ Bernardo, St. Clair, _and two other monks._

[_Flourish of drums and trumpets without._

_Bern._ You hear! Soon the victorious foe will force our walls; for, can they long sustain the shock of such an host? Or if they could--for what? for whom? Are we agreed?

_St. Clair._ We are: in a just cause we would uphold our abbot's rights; but when such judges have prounounc'd her traitress, and such brave warriors will support that judgment, shall we, upon the word of one who will adduce no proof of innocence--we, the calm advocates of peace, not war--shall we devote our abbey and ourselves to ruin most inevitable?

_Bern._ No, haughty prelate! we will teach you now, that those who raised you to your splendid height, have still the power to humble and to crush you. And they who this night come to grace your installation, shall view their idol's downfall. Unbar the gates! (_the abbot appears in the aisle, unseen by the monks._) Give the prince palatine free entrance; and let the vengeance of the secret knights fall, as it ought, on those who have provoked it.

_Ab._ (_advancing hastily from the aisle._) Who's he dare utter such profane commands?

_Bern._ Bellarmin! I!--Unbar the gates!

_Ab._ Forbear! And think not, brothers, that I court this contest, or willingly involve ye in hard office. But we, who vested with bright mercy's power, can feel the bliss of sparing the unfortunate; shall we, when barbarism, mask'd by pious, plausible pretext, strikes at the growth of every liberal feeling; shall we forego our edict, or uphold it? I say, uphold it! And chiefly on one proof--Manfredi had no daughter! That charge I know to be most groundless.

_Bern._ You knew Manfredi then! (_abbot shows agitation._) He, our new oracle, proclaims he was no stranger to this murderer.

_Ab._ (_with suppressed indignation._) Murderer!

_Bern._ The worst of murderers! False to the man who raised him from low fortune--false to his patron, the brave prince Palatine!

_Ab._ To him!

_Bern._ To him! Who on his brother's, the late prince's death, anxious to see and guard that brother's child, then some leagues distant from the court, despatched Manfredi, as his trustiest friend to be the princess's escort; when, on the way, most artfully dismissing all her train, and mov'd not by the smile of infant innocence, mixing ingratitude with traitorous cruelty, this foe to virtue, but Bellarmin's friend, plung'd his fell poniard in Theresa's heart, and fled, and died the victim of despair.

_Ab._ Wert thou a winged messenger from Heaven, my father's spirit, nay, e'en fate itself! I'd tell you, vile detractor, it is false! false as _thy_ friend, the brave prince palatine! who fired by daring and ambitious views, besought Manfredi to remove the bar 'twixt him and sovereignty. Manfredi yielded to _protect_ his charge, and artfully dismissed the princess's train to bear her to a friendly foreign court; when galling, dire reverse! in a dark covert on the Danube's banks, outlaws affected what her foes desired--Theresa fell--(_speaking rapidly_)--A prey to grief and disappointed hope, Manfredi fled--Yon fell usurper gained the wish'd-for seat!

_Bern._ Usurper!

_Ab._ Fiend! coward! traitor! Who, to destroy Manfredi's evidence, sought his destruction;--who, by false statement and concurring circumstance, secur'd his triumph--who still comes forth to immolate more innocence! and Corbey's abbot is to share in the new sacrifice! No, though our order teaches resignation--yet teaching fortitude and love of virtue, my founder's spirit shall inspire my soul, and once more Charlemagne shall vanquish here!

_Bern._ Audacious, impious slanderer! Compare ennobled and established worth with such confirm'd disgrace--(_flourish of drums and trumpets, and noise of walls falling_)--They force the outworks! Instant aid their entrance! and hail the downfall of such perjured arrogance!

_St. Clair._ Come!

_Ab._ (_getting between them and the gates._) St. Clair! Bernardo! who once call'd me friend! and who, on sudden impulse, have drawn forth what I so long and anxiously kept secret, will you desert me at this awful moment? or, to the last contending for our abbey's rights, implore these warriors from the holy land, not to take arms against a sacred cause! She's wrong'd, she's innocent.

_Bern._ 'Tis false--most false!

_Enter_ Ravensburg.

_Rav._ My lord, all's lost! The savage and inveterate foe have storm'd the walls, and rush to glut their vengeance.

_Ab._ (_to Ravensburg apart._) And from your father! None--no hope?

_Rav._ None! He merely states, that dreading he might lose her, who'd supply a daughter's loss; and fearing to increase an orphan's grief, he cautiously concealed, how, one autumnal night some fourteen years ago, he saw upon the Danube's banks, an infant seemingly expiring. He snatch'd it--sav'd it! and what the mystery might solve, if now such mystery were worth solving--this scarf (_producing it_) encircled her.--(_Abbot takes the scarf with great eagerness._)--But all is past! and Agnes, dear lov'd Agnes, by the father saved, the son must instantly behold destroyed.

_Ab._ (_after having gazed on the scarf with the greatest emotion._) Eternal Providence! Theresa! princess! Oh, great God of Nature!--(_rushing into the sanctuary._)

_Rav._ Theresa!--Mighty heaven!

[_Flourish. The gates are forced._

_Enter the_ prince Palatine, free knights, Crusaders, _and_ soldiers.

_Prin._ First seize yon renegade! (_free knights seize Ravensburg_) next force the sanctuary!--(_free knights and soldiers enter the sanctuary by force_) and then no more on others shall her fate depend. This arm----(_knights and soldiers bring Agnes from the sanctuary to the front, all the characters following_)--Now, while all thoughts are deadened in my heated brain, but those of fury and revenge--thus treason falls, and the vile traitress dies. [_Seizing Agnes, and going to stab her with his sword._

_Ab._ (_behind the crowd._) Forbear! she is your rightful princess!

_Prin._ Merciful powers! who dare e'n breathe--

_Ab._ (_rushing through the crowd, and approaching the prince._) Here, in these hallowed aisles; here, in the face of Heaven, and of man, by all your hopes of future preservation, avow your treason, and your sovereign's wrongs, detested, treacherous, murderous villain!--(_prince much agitated._) See, guilt is on him! Now, ye who had no faith (_to the monks_) and ye who trample upon sacred rights (_to the free knights_) behold how sacred justice is displayed! There's the usurper, sinking with remorse, and here Manfredi, shedding tears of joy at his regain'd, belov'd Theresa's feet! [_The_ prince _lets his sword fall, and reclines on the arm of_ Walbourg. Ravensburg _flies to_ Agnes, _and takes her from the_ free knights. Abbot _kneels on one side of_ Agnes, Ravensburg _on the other._

_Rav._ Manfredi! Sovereign!

_Ab._ He knows it--knows, on her suppos'd decease, this hand inform'd him of Manfredi's motives--and that, disgusted with a sickening world, in calm retirement, he should seek for peace. He sought it here--and in Bellarmin's name, was here most safely sheltered! When, soon, the daring calumny spread wide, of "traitor"--of "assassin"--and the sad narrative perverted, confirm'd the perjur'd statement. You'll say I should have answered this? No--aware such influence, and such arts, would, with such judges, beat down humble truth, I kept immur'd! and my reported death checking inquiry, whilst the loud world sung forth the slanderer's praise, I could look inward, and exclaim, better forever undeserved disgrace, than hear applause the heart can never sanction!

_Ag._ My lord, (_to Ravensburg_) though lost in wonder and in joy, and now most certain he proclaim'd me as Manfredi's daughter, to give a colour to each cruel charge! yet can I see a fellow creature, torn with such convulsive agony!--Go--speak--console him.

_Ab._ (_to prince._) You hear!

_Prin._ I do! and if Manfredi had, like me, beheld her angel mother's form, the strong resemblance had betray'd the secret, and mad ambition had been sooner crush'd! I sue, I supplicate for death--life, life's the dreaded punishment for guilt like mine! Come--I implore ye!

_Ab._ 'Tis gone! 'tis vanished! and I, who hated and opposed, now feel my edict surpasses even royal rights! Monarchs may spare, yet also they must punish! By my prerogative, I can but pardon--be safe within these walls, till higher power determines on your fate. (_the prince is led up the stage._) Now hope we to fulfill a far more welcome office, the union of two hearts, that beat in unison, and that, and our forth-coming installation, past--(_music without_)--Hark! they come--the warfare o'er, the sons of peace approach.

_Rav._ (_looking out._) Oh! glorious, welcome sight! and let none say the days of darkness are returned, when such desert is crown'd with such reward. My lord, they enter--they expect you.

_Ab._ Why, ay; and if my princess will partake--She will, she will--and 'tis not there that I shall seek reward--'Tis here! 'tis here. (_taking the princess's hand._)

_Music._ [_Exeunt._

SCENES THE LAST.--_The installation, &c. All the characters discovered._

CHORUS.

Hail, hour of glory!
Hail, hour of glory!
Long o'er our hearts may our abbot sway!
Fam'd in story,
Long live this hallow'd and this happy day!

_Ab._ Be ever chronicled this blest event! And now my princess shall with me unite to root out secret subterraneous justice, and fixing it in fair and open day, unmask free knights, and hail the dawn of genuine freedom, and enlightened truth.

FINALE.

Now your lofty paeans raise,
To our youthful princess' praise.
Ne'er may such bless'd rulers sever--
May our princess live for ever!