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THE 8PAGNOLETTO.
315
RIBERA.
What is it ? Speak !
LUCA.
Dear master, she is gone.
RIBERA.
How ? Murdered dead ? Oh, cruel God !
Away!
Follow me not ! [Exit RIBERA.
FIAMETTA.
Help, all ye saints of heaven .
Have pity on him ! Oh, what a day is this !
LUCA.
Quiet, Fiametta. When the master finds
The empty, untouched bed, the silent room,
His wits will leave him. Hark ! was that his cry ?
Eeenter KLBERA catting.
RIBERA.
Maria ! Daughter ! Where have they taken thee,
My only one, my darling ? Oh, the brigands !
Naples shall bleed for this. What do ye here,
Slaves, fools, who stare upon me ? Know ye not
I have been robbed ? Hence ! Ransack every house
