Since 'tis your wish.—In truth, I should have been
A village-maid!
Eri. But, being as you are,
Not thus ignobly free, command your looks,
(They may be taught obedience,) to reflect
The aspect of the time.
Vit. And know, fair maid!
That if in this unskill'd, you stand alone
Amidst our court of pleasure.
Eri. To the feast!
Now let the red wine foam!—There should be mirth
When conquerors revel!—Lords of this fair isle!
Your good sword's heritage, crown each bowl, and pledge
The present and the future! for they both
Look brightly on us. Dost thou smile, my bride?
Vit. Yes, Eribert!—thy prophecies of joy
Have taught e'en me to smile.
Eri. 'Tis well. To-day
I have won a fair and almost royal bride;
To-morrow—let the bright sun speed his course,
To waft me happiness!—my proudest foes
Must die—and then my slumber shall be laid
On rose-leaves, with no envious fold, to mar
The luxury of its visions!—Fair Vittoria,
Your looks are troubled!
Vit. It is strange, but oft,
Midst festal songs and garlands, o'er my soul
Death comes, with some dull image! as you spoke
