rison, as if anxious to leap out and overtake it. My soul whirled
round as I watched the rotation of the hinder wheels. A long trail of
glory followed after her and mingled with the dust--it was the
emanation of Divinity, luminous with love and beauty, like the
splendor of the setting sun; but it told me that the sun of my joys
was sunk forever. Yes, here in the depths of an eternal dungeon, in
the nursing-cradle of hell, the suburbs of perdition, in a nest of
demons, where despair in vain sits brooding over the putrid eggs of
hope; where agony wooes the embrace of death; where patience, beside
the bottomless pool of despondency, sits angling for impossibilities.
Yet even _here_, to behold her, to embrace her! Yes, Matilda, whether
in this dark abode, amidst toads and spiders, or in a royal palace,
amidst the more loathsome reptiles of a court, would be indifferent to
me; angels would shower down their hymns of gratulation upon our
heads, while fiends would envy the eternity of suffering love--Soft;
what air was that? it seemed a sound of more than human warblings.
Again [_listens attentively for some minutes_]. Only the wind: it is
well, however; it reminds me of that melancholy air which has so often
solaced the hours of my captivity. Let me see whether the damps of
this dungeon have not yet injured my guitar. [_Takes his guitar, tunes
it, and begins the following air with a full accompaniment of violins
from the orchestra:--_]

[_Air, 'Lanterna Magica.'_]

SONG

Whene'er with haggard eyes I view
This dungeon that I'm rotting in,
I think of those companions true
Who studied with me at the U--
--niversity of Gottingen,
--niversity of Gottingen.

[_Weeps and pulls out a blue kerchief, with which he wipes his
eyes; gazing tenderly at it, he proceeds:--_]

Sweet kerchief, checked with heavenly blue,
Which once my love sat knotting in!--
Alas! Matilda _then_ was true!
At least I thought so at the U--
--niversity of Gottingen,
--niversity of Gottingen.

[_At the repetition of this line Rogero clanks his chains in
cadence._]

Barbs! barbs! alas! how swift you flew,
Her neat post-wagon trotting in!
Ye bore Matilda from my view;
Forlorn I languished at the U--
--niversity of Gottingen,
--niversity of Gottingen.

This faded form! this pallid hue!
This blood my veins is clotting in!
My years are many--they were