What should he know of such a recreant heart?
Speak, Guido! thou 'rt his friend!
Guido. I would not wear
The brand of such a name!
Pro. How! what means this?
A flash of light breaks in upon my soul!
Is it to blast me?—Yet the fearful doubt
Hath crept in darkness through my thoughts before,
And been flung from them.—Silence!—Speak not yet!
I would be calm, and meet the thunder-burst
With a strong heart. (A pause.
Now, what have I to hear?
Your tidings?
Guido. Briefly, 'twas your son did thus;
He hath disgraced your name.
Pro. My son did thus!
—Are thy words oracles, that I should search
Their hidden meaning out?—What did my son?
I have forgot the tale.—Repeat it, quick!
Guido. 'Twill burst upon thee all too soon. While we
Were busy at the dark and solemn rites
Of retribution; while we bathed the earth
In red libations, which will consecrate
The soil they mingled with to freedom's step
Thro' the long march of ages; 'twas his task
To shield from danger a Provençal maid,
Sister of him whose cold oppression stung
Our hearts to madness.
