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Devoted to the service of your State,
Oh, father! why, why' wouldst thou not receive
Thy daughter's warning voice, her fervid prayer,
Three years, ah, e'en three hours ago? Now lies
The glorious city of thy golden dreams
Invaded, conquered, pillaged and destroyed,
While I, thy daughter, must, Cassandra-like,
Roam wailingly the ruins of thy Troy.

Santa Anna.

I self am bound to say, that hitherto
My credence in your father's loyalty
Has been as firm as your belief; and loath
To do him wrong, I have delayed the order
For his arrest, till when on his return
A while ago his words, ah! proved too well
Of his conversion to the rebel-cause,
So openly he spake in its behalf.


[Suddenly transgressing from deepest despair to highest joy.]

He has? My father has? Deceive me not!
He has defended Freedom's rights, you say?

Santa Anna.

No rebel steeped in disaffection's venom
Could have pronounced a more seditious speech
To shock our outraged ears, than he!