twofold and a needless tyranny!"

As he spoke, the more gentle and sympathizing spirits around looked
upon the stern mother with faces of the keenest rebuke and
indignation. Giovanni once more addressed himself to the maiden.

"And if you do not love this man, my Francesca, why is it that you so
weakly yield to his solicitings? Why submit to this sacrifice at any
instance? Have they strength to subdue thee?--has he the art to
ensnare thee?--canst thou not declare thy affections with a will? What
magic is it that they employ which is thus superior to that of
love?--and what is thy right--if heedless of the affections of _thy_
heart--to demand the sacrifice of _mine_? Thou hadst it in thy
keeping, Francesca, as I fondly fancied I had thine!"

"Thou hadst--thou hast!--"

"Francesca, my child!" was the expostulating exclamation of the
mother; but it failed, except for a single instant, to arrest the
passionate answer of the maiden.

"Hear me and pity, Giovanni, if you may not forgive! Blame me for my
infirmity--for the wretched weakness which has brought me to this
defeat of thy heart--this desolation of mine--but do not doubt that I
have loved thee--that I shall ever--"

"Stay!" commanded the imperious father.

"What is it thou wouldst say, Francesca? Beware!" was the stern
language of the mother.

The poor girl shrunk back in trembling. The brief impulse of courage
which the address of her lover, and the evident sympathy of the crowd,
had imparted, was gone as suddenly as it came. She had no more
strength for the struggle; and as she sunk back nerveless, and closed
her eyes as if fainting under the terrible glances of both her
parents, Giovanni dropped her hand from his grasp. It now lay lifeless
at her side, and she was sustained from falling by some of her
sympathizing companions. The eyes of the youth were bent upon her with
a last look.

"It is all over then," he exclaimed. "Thy hope, unhappy maiden, like
mine, must perish because of thy weakness. Yet there will be bitter
memories for this," he exclaimed, and his eye now sought the
mother--"bitter, bitter memories! Francesca, farewell! Be happy if
thou canst!"

She rushed toward him as he moved away, recovering all her strength
for this one effort. A single and broken sentence--"Forgive me, O
forgive!"--escaped her lips, as she sunk senseless upon the floor. He
would have raised her, but they did not suffer him.

"Is this not enough, Giovanni?" said his