To ask a vain companionship of tears,
And so to be relieved!
Pro. For woes like these,
There is no sympathy but vengeance.
Mon.None!
Therefore I brought you hither, that your hearts
Might catch the spirit of the scene!—Look round!
We are in the awful presence of the dead;
Within yon tomb they sleep, whose gentle blood
Weighs down the murderer's soul.—They sleep!—but I
Am wakeful o'er their dust!—I laid my sword,
Without its sheath, on their sepulchral stone,
As on an altar; and th' eternal stars,
And heaven, and night, bore witness to my vow,
No more to wield it save in one great cause,
The vengeance of the grave!—And now the hour
Of that atonement comes!
(He takes the sword from the tomb.
Rai. My spirit burns!
And my full heart almost to bursting swells.
—Oh! for the day of battle!
Pro. Raimond! they
Whose souls are dark with guiltless blood must die;
—But not in battle.
Rai. How, my father!
Pro. No!
Look on that sepulchre, and it will teach
Another lesson.—But th' appointed hour
Advances.—Thou wilt join our chosen band,
Noble Montalba?
