_Ben._ Is it you, father? why, you were out, when his excellence went this evening to--
_Mi._ I was at home-- but the prior"s suspicions-- I was a prisoner; and-- but this is no time for explanation-- lead me to your lord! away.
_Ben._ Impossible, father! all the grandees of Messina-- a banquet, a ball-- dont you hear the music? but doubtless tomorrow--
_Mi._ Tomorrow will be too late! alas! perhaps it is too late already!
perhaps at this very moment Venoni is no more!
_Ben._ No more. Venoni? follow me, father, follow me this instant-- stay, stay! as I live, here comes his excellence himself.
Enter the _Viceroy_ and _Hortensia_.
_Vice._ Nay, dear Hortensia-- how now? what would you, father?
_Mi._ Pardon my intrusion, n.o.ble sir, but my business will not brook delay-- I am that friar whose letter this morning--
_Vice._ Father Michael? speak! come you from Venoni?
_Mi._ He is in danger-- perhaps is already no more! oh, speed for his aid! rescue him, if possible; if too late, avenge him! if he still lives, I suspect the place of his confinement, and can guide you thither: if this b.l.o.o.d.y deed is already accomplished, at least let us punish the crimes of his a.s.sa.s.sin, the monster Clestino!
_Vice._ His a.s.sa.s.sin!
_Hor._ Clestino? stay, brother, stay! will you on the word of an unknown believe that a man whose whole course of life has been so pure, so pious--
_Mi._ Nay, lady, for heaven"s love delay us not; these moments are precious, are dreadful! these moments decide the life or death of a human being-- come, come, my lord! let the prior be seized; terror will doubtless compel him to confess my charge! secure, too, the abbess of the Ursulines; she can confirm my story; she well knows that the prior"s licentious love for your niece, for the murdered Josepha--
_Hor._ Murdered? my child?
_Vice._ Horror crowds on horror! within there! my servants! my guards!
away to the monastery; if there denied admittance, we"ll force the gates!-- Venoni, thou shalt be preserved, or avenged most dreadfully.
On, on, good friar! away!
[Exeunt.
_Hor._ (_alone_) Can it be? Clestino-- the abbess-- he, whom I ever thought so holy-- she, in whom I reposed such fatal confidence?-- distracting doubts, I must be satisfied;-- yes! I"ll hasten to the Ursulines; I"ll interrogate the abbess myself! I"ll question-- I"ll threaten; and if I find her guilty-- oh! then if her heart possesses but one feeling fibre, it will surely writhe with agony, when she hears the groans, when she sees the anguish of a despairing, of a childless mother!
[Exit.
SCENE III-- _An apartment in the Ursuline convent decorated for a festival-- the back part is filled up by a dark-coloured curtain-- night._
The _prior_ enters preceded by a friar with a torch, and followed by _Veronica_.
_Ve._ Yet hear me, Clestino!
_Pri._ Idle remonstrances! what! shall I have plunged into guilt, and reap no fruits from it but the danger? abbess, Josepha must be mine: remember my power, and obey me!
_Ve._ You have been obeyed; your victim is even now conducting hither; the banquet-- the lights-- the choral harmony-- every thing is prepared, that can seduce her senses; but all these temptations she has already resisted-- she will resist them still: then spare me the odious-- the unavailing office--
_Pri._ Perform it well, and it will not be unavailing. For twelve long months cut off from all society-- deprived of every joy, of every comfort, even deprived of light-- then, when suddenly the radience of a thousand torches blazes upon her wondering eye, when music swells upon her ear and, still more melting still more melodious, when the voice of affection speaks touchingly to her heart; nay, if she then prefers her gloomy cell to liberty and pleasure, Josepha"s virtue must be more than human.
_Ve._ But should it prove so-- oh! then at least forbear to persecute the unfortunate! let her swear never to divulge our secrets-- let some well imagined tale account for her reported death, and--
_Pri._ How? and dare you, the creature of my will, whose life depends but upon my breath--
_Ve._ While you speak, forget not also that my fate involves your own; I too can divulge--
_Pri._ Speak but such another threatening word, and the whole measure of your offences shall be made public throughout Messina-- my mind is resolved; my resolutions are taken: I can dare every thing; but you-- weak, trembling, doubting woman-- dare you die!
_Ve._ O! no, no, no! you know but too well, I dare not.
_Pri._ No more, then, but obey me. Tonight be it your care to fascinate Josepha"s senses and inflame her heart. Tomorrow I will once more present myself before her and prove, whether virtue and Venoni can counterbalance at once the allurements of present pleasure, and the apprehension of future pain. You have heard my will; obey it! should Josepha escape, I swear, that my vengeance shall drag you to the scaffold, even though I ascend it with you myself, (_to the friar_) Lead to the monastery.
[Exeunt.
_Ve._ I struggle in vain to escape; the snares of guilt are wound too closely round me. Hark! she comes! tis Josepha! I heard the plaintive murmur of that voice, so sweet, so tender, so touching! I dare not meet her yet-- oh! Josepha, gladly would I share thy gloomy dungeon, could I but share with it thy uncorrupted heart.
[Exeunt.
A nun enters with a lamp followed by sister _Lucia_, who conducts _Josepha_ blind-folded.
_Jo._ Oh! why is this mysterious silence? for what purpose have you taken me from my prison? who are you, and whither have you brought me?
have mercy on my agony! see, how this silence terrifies me: see how I kneel at your feet; see how I kiss them and bathe them with my tears.
Answer me-- in pity answer. Still no reply? still no kind consoling sound? (_Lucia motions to leave her_) oh! no, no, no! do not leave me!
even though you speak not, stay, oh, stay! let me at least be conscious, that there is a human being near me-- that I am not the only thing within these mournful walls, which possesses life and feeling! stay, stay, in charity! (_the nun breaks from her and exit_) they leave me-- they are gone! hark! a door closes! I hear their retiring footsteps!
alas! alas! even in the noise of that closing door, even in the echo of those departing steps, there was some little comfort: they at least betokened the existence of a human being. I am alone-- let me remove the bandage, and examine. Dark! dark! all dark! still all silence, still all gloom! where am I? I dare not advance lest some abyss-- oh! light, light! glorious light! shall I then never see thee more? any thing but this dead and hollow silence! any thing but this sepulchral, this dreadful, this heart-oppressing gloom.
_Chorus_ within, very full and sweet.
--"O! love! sweet love!"--
_Jo._ Hark! voices! I heard them! I am sure I heard them! it was music!
melody! enchantment-- hark! hark! again.
CHORUS.
"Love rules the court, the camp, the grove.
For love is heaven, and heaven is love."
_During this chorus, the curtain rolls up, and discovers a banquet splendidly illuminated; large folding doors are in the centre; chandeliers descend, and the stage becomes as light as possible-- Veronica and nuns are in the front._
_Jos._ See! see! all bright! all brilliant; a dream-- a fairy vision-- the blaze overpowers me, my eyes are dazzled; my brain grows dizzy: I cannot support the rapture-- (_sinks against a pillar_)
_Ve._ Josepha!
_Jos._ (_starting_) Surely that voice-- the abbess, what can mean--
_Ve._ How? not speak to me, my child? not look upon your mother?