Part 2 / Act 3 — Scene IV.—Room in the Citadel of Palermo.

De Cou. Saidst thou this night? Alb. This very night—and lo! E’en now the sun declines. De Cou. What! are they arm’d? Alb. All arm’d, and strong in vengeance and despair. De Cou. Doubtful and strange the tale! Why was not this reveal’d before? Alb. Mistrust me not, my lord! That stern and jealous Procida hath kept O’er all my steps (as though he did suspect The purposes, which oft his eye hath sought To read in mine) a watch so vigilant I knew not how to warn thee, though for this Alone I mingled with his bands—to learn Their projects and their strength. Thou know’st my faith To Anjou’s house full well. De Cou. How may we now Avert the gathering storm? The viceroy holds His bridal feast, and all is revelry. ’Twas a true-boding heaviness of heart Which kept me from these nuptials. Alb. Thou thyself May’st yet escape, and haply of thy bands Rescue a part, ere long to wreak full vengeance Upon these rebels. ’Tis too late to dream Of saving Eribert. E’en shouldst thou rush Before him with the tidings, in his pride And confidence of soul, he would but laugh Thy tale to scorn. De Cou. He must not die unwarn’d, Though it be all in vain. But thou, Alberti, Rejoin thy comrades, lest thine absence wake Suspicion in their hearts. Thou hast done well, And shalt not pass unguerdon’d, should I live Through the deep horrors of th’ approaching night. Alb. Noble De Couci, trust me still. Anjou Commands no heart more faithful than Alberti’s. [Exit Alberti. De Cou. The grovelling slave!—And yet he spoke too true! For Eribert, in blind elated joy, Will scorn the warning voice. The day wanes fast, And through the city, recklessly dispersed, Unarm’d and unprepared, my soldiers revel, E’en on the brink of fate. I must away. [Exit De Couci.