al of poison, which might have been a treasure to
me. I am so wretched that I have lost the power even over my own life.
What! still in suspense? Or do you think, perhaps, that I shall stand
on my defence when you try to seize me? See here! I bind my right hand
to this oak-branch; now I am quite defenceless, a child may overpower
me. Who is the first to desert his captain in the hour of need?

ROLLER (with wild energy). And what though hell encircle us with
ninefold coils! (Brandishing his sword.) Who is the coward that will
betray his captain?

SCHWEITZER (tears the pardon and flings the pieces into FATHER DOMINIC'S
face). Pardon be in our bullets! Away with thee, rascal! Tell your
senate that you could not find a single traitor in all Moor's camp.
Huzza! Huzza! Save the captain!

ALL (shouting). Huzza! Save the captain! Save him! Save our noble
captain!

CHARLES (releasing his hand from the tree, joyfully). Now we are free,
comrades! I feel a host in this single arm! Death or liberty! At the
least they shall not take a man of us alive!

[They sound the signal for attack; noise and tumult.
Exeunt with drawn swords.]

ACT III.

SCENE I.--AMELIA in the garden, playing the guitar.

Bright as an angel from Walhalla's hall,
More beautiful than aught of earth was he!
Heaven-mild his look, as sunbeams when they fall,
Reflected from a calm cerulean sea.

His warm embrace--oh, ravishing delight!
With heart to heart the fiery pulses danced--
Our every sense wrap'd in ecstatic night--
Our souls in blissful harmony entranced.

His kisses--oh, what paradise of feeling!
E'en as two flames which round each other twine--
Or flood of seraph harp-tones gently stealing
In one soft swell, away to realms divine!

They rushed, commingled, melted, soul in soul!
Lips glued to lips, with burning tremor bound!
Cold earth dissolved, and love without control
Absorbed all sense of worldly things around!

He's gone!--forever gone! Alas! in vain
My bleeding heart in bitter anguish sighs;
To me is left alone this world of pain,
And mortal life in hopeless sorrow dies.

Enter FRANCIS.

FRANCIS. Here again already, perverse enthusiast? You stole away from
the festive banquet, and marred the mirthful pleasures of my guests.

AMELIA. 'Tis pity, truly, to mar su