Flor. [Alone.] Ha! this means something. Well I

know Pescara :

His voice doth sound like Fate within my soul,
That answers back in faint and trembling echoes.
This horrid band of death, his fell commands,
The terrors of his eye, his looks of destiny,
All, all affright me ! If I must be wretched,
O Heaven, don't let me know it; leave me still.
The bliss of ignorance! What if Pescara,
Before Hemeya has adjured his creed,
Should treacherously seize him?

Would that the rite were done!

[A distant symphony is heard.

What seraph music floats upon my soul?
Methinks it is the organ's solemn swell,
That from the church's aisles ascends to heaven.

The holy rite proceeds! sweet sounds, awake!

Awake again upon my raptured soul!

[A distant Chorus sings.

CHORUS.

The mystic light

Has dawned upon his sight:

He sees, and he believes. Rejoice, rejoice,

With one acclaiming voice!

Strike, seraphs! strike your harps, and through the sky

Swell the full tide of rapturous melody!

[The curtain falls while FLORINDA kneels.

EVADNE, OR THE STATUE.

EVADNE, a Noble Lady, Sister to COLONNA, is unlawfully sought by the King of Naples; he surrounds her with artifices, which appear to

attaint her honour.

and is condemned to death.

Her Brother is also drawn into the King's toils, The King agrees to save COLONNA's life, if EVADNE accedes to his proposals. She appears to consent, and appoints to meet the King in "the Hall of Statues," in her late Father's Castle.

The Hall of Statues.

The KING, COLONNA, Evadne.

King. Colonna, my best friend, how shall I thank thee But where is my Evadne ?

Col. There, my

lord!

King. Colonna, I not only give thee life,

But place thee near myself; henceforth thou wilt wear
A nobler title in thy family,-

And to thy great posterity we'll send

My granted dukedom.

Col. Sir, you honour me.

My presence is no longer needed here.

(Aside.) A word's consent dispatches them!

[Conceals himself behind the pillars.

King. My fair Evadne! lay aside thy sad And drooping aspect, in this hour of joy! Stoop not thy head, that like a pale rose bends Upon its yielding stalk-thou hast no cause For such a soft abashment, for be sure

I'll place thee high in honour.

Eva. Honour, sir!

King. Yes; I'll exalt thee into dignity, Adorn thy name with titles—All my court Shall watch the movement of thy countenance, Riches and power shall wait upon thy smile, And in the lightest bending of thy brow, Death and disgrace inhabit.

Eva. And, my liege,

That will inhabit my own heart?

King. My love!

Come, my Evadne-what a form is here!
The imaginers of beauty did of old

O'er three rich forms of sculptured excellence
Scatter the naked graces; but the hand

Of mightier nature hath in thee combined
All varied charms together.

Eva. You were speaking

Of sculpture, Sir-I do remember me,

You are deemed a worshipper of that high art.

Here, my lord,

Is matter for your transports!

King. Fair Evadne!

[Pointing to the Statues.

Do you not mean to mock me? Not to gaze

On yonder lifeless marbles, did I come

To visit you to-night, but in the pure

And blue-veined alabaster of a breast,

Richer than heaves the Parian that has wed

The Florentine to immortality.

Eva. You deem me of a light, capricious mood, But it were hard if (woman as I am)

I could not use my sex's privilege—

Though I should ask you for yon orb of light,
That shines so brightly and so sadly there,
And fills the ambient air with purity—
Should you not fain, as 'tis the wont of those
Who cheat a wayward child, to draw it down,
And in the sheeted splendour of a stream

To catch its shivering brightness!—It is my pleasure
That you should look upon these reverend forms

That keep the likeness of mine ancestry—

I must enforce you to it!

King. Wayward woman!

What arts does she intend, to captivate

My soul more deeply in her toils?

Eva. Behold!

[Going to a Statue.

The glorious founder of my family!
It is the great Rodolpho !-Charlemagne
Did fix that sun upon his shield, to be
His glory's blazoned emblem; for at noon,
When the astronomer cannot discern

A spot upon the full-orbed disk of light,

'Tis not more bright than his immaculate name!
With what austere and dignified regard

He lifts the type of purity, and seems
Indignantly to ask, if aught that springs
From blood of his, shall dare to sully it
With a vapour of the morning!
King. It is well;

His frown has been attempered, in the lapse
Of generations, to thy lovely smile.-

I swear, he seems not of thy family.

My fair Evadne, I confess, I hoped

Another sort of entertainment here.

Eva. Another of mine ancestors, my liege

Guelfo, the murderer!

[Pointing to a Statue.

King. The murderer !

I knew not that your family was stained

With the reproach of blood.

Eva. We are not wont

To blush, though we may sorrow for his sin,

If sin indeed it be. His castle walls

Were circled in the siege of Saracens,—
He had an only daughter, whom he prized
More than you hold your diadem ; but when
He saw the fury of the infidels

Burst through his shattered gates, and on his child
Dishonour's hand was lifted, with one blow

He struck her to the heart, and with the other,
He stretched himself beside her.

King. Fair Evadne,

I must no more indulge you, else, I fear,

You would scorn me for my patience; prithee, love,
No more of this wild fantasy!

Eva. My liege,

But one remains, and when you have looked upon it,
And thus complied with my request, you will find me

Submissive to your own.

Know you this statue?

Look here, my lord—

King. No, in sooth, I do not.

[Pointing to a Statue.

Eva. Nay-look again—for I shall think but ill

Of princely memories, if you can find

Within the inmost chambers of your heart

No image like to this. Look at that smile—

That smile, my liege-look at it!

King. It is your father!

Eva. [Breaking into exultation.] Ay!-'tis indeed my

father!-'tis my good,

Exalted, generous, and god-like father!

Whose memory, though he had left his child

A naked, houseless roamer through the world,
Were an inheritance a princess might

Be proud of for her dower! It is my father!
Whose like in honour, virtue, and the fine