Whose love is with the dead. They, they alone,
Unmadden'd could sustain the fearful joy
And glory of its trances!—at the hour
Which makes guilt tremulous, and peoples earth
And air with infinite, viewless multitudes,
I will be with thee, Procida.
Pro. Thy presence
Will kindle nobler thoughts, and, in the souls
Of suffering and indignant men, arouse
That which may strengthen our majestic cause
With yet a deeper power.—Know'st thou the spot?
Vit. Full well. There is no scene so wild and lone
In these dim woods, but I have visited
Its tangled shades.
Pro. At midnight then we meet.
[Exit Procida.
Vit. Why should I fear?—Thou wilt be with me,—thou,
Th' immortal dream and shadow of my soul,
Spirit of him I love! that meet'st me still
In loneliness and silence; in the noon
Of the wild night, and in the forest-depths,
Known but to me; for whom thou giv'st the winds
And sighing leaves a cadence of thy voice,
Till my heart faints with that o'erthrilling joy!
Thou wilt be with me there, and lend my lips
Words, fiery words, to flush dark cheeks with shame,
That thou art unavenged!
[Exit Vittoria.
