eel at your feet; see how I kiss them and bathe them with my tears.
Answer me-- in pity answer. Still no reply? still no kind consoling
sound? (_Lucia motions to leave her_) oh! no, no, no! do not leave me!
even though you speak not, stay, oh, stay! let me at least be conscious,
that there is a human being near me-- that I am not the only thing
within these mournful walls, which possesses life and feeling! stay,
stay, in charity! (_the nun breaks from her and exit_) they leave me--
they are gone! hark! a door closes! I hear their retiring footsteps!
alas! alas! even in the noise of that closing door, even in the echo
of those departing steps, there was some little comfort: they at least
betokened the existence of a human being. I am alone-- let me remove
the bandage, and examine. Dark! dark! all dark! still all silence, still
all gloom! where am I? I dare not advance lest some abyss-- oh! light,
light! glorious light! shall I then never see thee more? any thing but
this dead and hollow silence! any thing but this sepulchral, this
dreadful, this heart-oppressing gloom.

_Chorus_ within, very full and sweet.

--"O! love! sweet love!"--

_Jo._ Hark! voices! I heard them! I am sure I heard them! it was music!
melody! enchantment-- hark! hark! again.

CHORUS.

"Love rules the court, the camp, the grove.
For love is heaven, and heaven is love."

_During this chorus, the curtain rolls up, and discovers a banquet
splendidly illuminated; large folding doors are in the centre;
chandeliers descend, and the stage becomes as light as possible--
Veronica and nuns are in the front._

_Jos._ See! see! all bright! all brilliant; a dream-- a fairy vision--
the blaze overpowers me, my eyes are dazzled; my brain grows dizzy:
I cannot support the rapture-- (_sinks against a pillar_)

_Ve._ Josepha!

_Jos._ (_starting_) Surely that voice-- the abbess, what can mean--

_Ve._ How? not speak to me, my child? not look upon your mother?

_Jos._ Mother? child? oh! it is long since I heard those dear, dear
names-- my heart-- my feelings-- (_throwing herself into her arms_) oh!
if I am your child, then mother, mother! be to me a mother indeed!

_Ve._ And do I not prove myself one, my Josepha, when now, in spite of
all your past perverseness I again clasp you to my bosom, I again put it
in your own choice to live in liberty, in society, in delight? look
round you, my daughter! see how every countenance smiles t