. After all, Manrico was but a
wild young brigand, living in a lawless time, when nobles themselves
were highwaymen and without violating custom. Such a one had little
self-control.

"Show di Luna no mercy, my son," Azucena urged. "Art thou not my son?
my own, dear son?" Then suddenly remembering all that her distraught
condition had betrayed her into saying, she cried remorsefully:

"I am an old and wretched woman who has seen much sorrow. When I
spoke I was distracted with my griefs, but remember the Count di Luna
and do not spare him. If you do, he will take the Lady Leonora from
thee."

"True, mother, and I will kill him," the troubadour said suddenly. The
thought of di Luna's rivalry overcame his sense of humanity.

The forge fire died down, and Manrico, exhausted by his mother's
story, lay back upon his couch while his mother continued to sit, lost
in her tragic thoughts, but while he rested, half sleeping, the long
clear note of a horn was heard, and Manrico started up.

"It is Ruiz," he said anxiously, believing it to be his servant.
Snatching his horn from his belt, he blew a clear, answering blast. In
a moment a messenger, who was not Ruiz, ran in.

"Quick, what is thy news?" Manrico demanded, made apprehensive by
illness and the stories he had heard. He expected misfortune from
every quarter.

"A letter for thee, Master," the messenger panted, leaning against the
rocky wall, worn with running. Manrico read excitedly:

"Our men have taken Castellar. The Prince's order is that thou shalt
come instantly to defend it. Unless thy wounds have laid thee low, I
shall expect thee. Know that, deceived by the tidings of thy death,
the beautiful Lady Leonora will this day become the elect of Heaven."
Manrico started, then stared at the letter again. Leonora to enter a
convent where he could never see her again! No!

"Bring me my horse, quick. I shall join thee below the hill. Mother, I
go! My mantle!" And snatching his cloak and helmet, his mother threw
her arms about him.

"Where do you go, my son?" she cried with anxiety.

"To save Leonora--let me go."

"Thou art still ill. It will kill thee, and I shall die if I lose
thee."

"Farewell, mother; I go. Without Leonora, I could not live. I go."
Tearing himself from her he rushed down the mountain.

_Scene II_

Again it was night; there was always an appearance of darkness and
gloom about the lovers. From the cloisters of the convent to which
Leonora