she will resist them still: then spare me the odious-- the
unavailing office--

_Pri._ Perform it well, and it will not be unavailing. For twelve long
months cut off from all society-- deprived of every joy, of every
comfort, even deprived of light-- then, when suddenly the radience of a
thousand torches blazes upon her wondering eye, when music swells upon
her ear and, still more melting still more melodious, when the voice of
affection speaks touchingly to her heart; nay, if she then prefers her
gloomy cell to liberty and pleasure, Josepha's virtue must be more than
human.

_Ve._ But should it prove so-- oh! then at least forbear to persecute
the unfortunate! let her swear never to divulge our secrets-- let some
well imagined tale account for her reported death, and--

_Pri._ How? and dare you, the creature of my will, whose life depends
but upon my breath--

_Ve._ While you speak, forget not also that my fate involves your own;
I too can divulge--

_Pri._ Speak but such another threatening word, and the whole measure of
your offences shall be made public throughout Messina-- my mind is
resolved; my resolutions are taken: I can dare every thing; but
you-- weak, trembling, doubting woman-- dare you die!

_Ve._ O! no, no, no! you know but too well, I dare not.

_Pri._ No more, then, but obey me. Tonight be it your care to fascinate
Josepha's senses and inflame her heart. Tomorrow I will once more
present myself before her and prove, whether virtue and Venoni can
counterbalance at once the allurements of present pleasure, and the
apprehension of future pain. You have heard my will; obey it! should
Josepha escape, I swear, that my vengeance shall drag you to the
scaffold, even though I ascend it with you myself, (_to the friar_) Lead
to the monastery.

[Exeunt.

_Ve._ I struggle in vain to escape; the snares of guilt are wound too
closely round me. Hark! she comes! tis Josepha! I heard the plaintive
murmur of that voice, so sweet, so tender, so touching! I dare not meet
her yet-- oh! Josepha, gladly would I share thy gloomy dungeon, could I
but share with it thy uncorrupted heart.

[Exeunt.

A nun enters with a lamp followed by sister _Lucia_, who conducts
_Josepha_ blind-folded.

_Jo._ Oh! why is this mysterious silence? for what purpose have you
taken me from my prison? who are you, and whither have you brought me?
have mercy on my agony! see, how this silence terrifies me: see how I
kn