disgrace, than hear applause the heart can never sanction!

_Ag._ My lord, (_to Ravensburg_) though lost in wonder and in joy, and
now most certain he proclaim'd me as Manfredi's daughter, to give a
colour to each cruel charge! yet can I see a fellow creature, torn with
such convulsive agony!--Go--speak--console him.

_Ab._ (_to prince._) You hear!

_Prin._ I do! and if Manfredi had, like me, beheld her angel mother's
form, the strong resemblance had betray'd the secret, and mad ambition
had been sooner crush'd! I sue, I supplicate for death--life, life's the
dreaded punishment for guilt like mine! Come--I implore ye!

_Ab._ 'Tis gone! 'tis vanished! and I, who hated and opposed, now feel
my edict surpasses even royal rights! Monarchs may spare, yet also they
must punish! By my prerogative, I can but pardon--be safe within these
walls, till higher power determines on your fate. (_the prince is led up
the stage._) Now hope we to fulfill a far more welcome office, the union
of two hearts, that beat in unison, and that, and our forth-coming
installation, past--(_music without_)--Hark! they come--the warfare
o'er, the sons of peace approach.

_Rav._ (_looking out._) Oh! glorious, welcome sight! and let none say
the days of darkness are returned, when such desert is crown'd with such
reward. My lord, they enter--they expect you.

_Ab._ Why, ay; and if my princess will partake--She will, she will--and
'tis not there that I shall seek reward--'Tis here! 'tis here. (_taking
the princess's hand._)

_Music._ [_Exeunt._

SCENES THE LAST.--_The installation, &c. All the characters discovered._

CHORUS.

Hail, hour of glory!
Hail, hour of glory!
Long o'er our hearts may our abbot sway!
Fam'd in story,
Long live this hallow'd and this happy day!

_Ab._ Be ever chronicled this blest event! And now my princess shall
with me unite to root out secret subterraneous justice, and fixing it in
fair and open day, unmask free knights, and hail the dawn of genuine
freedom, and enlightened truth.

FINALE.

Now your lofty paeans raise,
To our youthful princess' praise.
Ne'er may such bless'd rulers sever--
May our princess live for ever!

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mirror of Taste, and Dramatic
Censor, Vol. I, No. 6, June 1810, by Various

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MIRROR OF TASTE, JUNE 1810 ***

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