Scene II.—A Hermitage, surrounded by the Ruins of
an ancient Temple.
Constance.Anselmo.
Constance. 'T is strange he comes not!—Is not this the still
And sultry hour of noon?—He should have been
Here by the day-break.—Was there not a voice?
—"No! 'tis the shrill Cicada, with glad life
"Peopling these marble ruins, as it sports
"Amidst them, in the sun.—Hark! yet again!"
No! no!—Forgive me, father! that I bring
Earth's restless griefs and passions to disturb
The stillness of thy holy solitude;
My heart is full of care.
Anselmo. There is no place
So hallow'd, as to be unvisited
By mortal cares. Nay, whither should we go,
With our deep griefs and passions, but to scenes
Lonely and still; where he that made our hearts
Will speak to them in whispers? I have known
Affliction too, my daughter.
Con. Hark! his step!
I know it well—he comes—my Raimond, welcome!
Vittoria enters, Constance shrinks back on perceiving her.
Oh heaven! that aspect tells a fearful tale.
Vittoria. (not observing her.) There is a cloud of horror on my soul;
