d.

"Banish all sad thoughts, Leonora; our soldiers will win and it will
soon be over. Think only of joyful things. We shall live and be
happy." The organ sounded from the chapel. "That calls us to our
marriage," Manrico said, leading her toward the chapel door, but as
they were about to enter, Ruiz rushed in.

"Manrico! Look out--that gipsy." He pointed frantically out of the
window. Manrico looked, and there he saw his old mother being tied to
the stake, the fagots being piled about her. He yelled with horror.

"Leonora! It is my mother. She was my mother before I loved thee. I go
to save her. Call our men, Ruiz, I follow!" Embracing Leonora, he
rushed wildly away, while the trumpets of war were heard, and the din
of battle began.

ACT IV

Back at Aliaferia, Manrico was held prisoner. All was gloom and
darkness again, with the prison tower where Manrico was confined
looming near, its bars seeming very sinister, the evening more
forbidding by contrast with that first moonlight night, when he had
sung to Leonora in the gardens.

Leonora, protected by Ruiz, the faithful servant, stole from the
shadows, while Ruiz tried to reconnoitre and spy out where Manrico was
hidden. The Countess was worn with fear and trouble. While they stood
there, outside the prison, the "Miserere" was dolorously chanted. The
sound was ominous.

"They chant prayers for the dead!" she whispered, and then the bell
tolled.

"It is the bell for the dead," she whispered again, fainting with
despair. "What voices of horror. My God! death is very near;" and she
stood listening. Then, mingling with the death chant, the troubadour's
glorious voice floated out upon the night.

[Music:

Ah send thy beams, Aurora,
Light me to early death,
Waft her my longing,
Waft her my latest breath!
I leave thee, Leonora, ah, I leave thee!]

It was the doomed Manrico singing, from his prison, while waiting,
wearily, for the dawn.

It was a fearful hour: The death song! The bell for the dead, the
lonely troubadour's voice, and prayer for the dead, sounding through
the night.

As Leonora listened, her anguish became too great to bear, and she
resolved to save his life or die. Then di Luna came, accompanied by
his men; he was giving hurried orders:

"The moment the day dawns, bring out the man, and here, on this spot,
cut off his head," he commanded. The attendants entered the prison
tower, and di Luna, believing himself to b