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(Knights shout.) For the Cross-De Chatillon! [RAIMER attempts to break from his guards. SADI enters with more Soldiers to the assist

ance of MELECH. AYMER and the Knights are overpowered. AYMER is wounded and

falls.

Mel. Bring fetters-bind the captives!

Rai.

No!-he is saved!

Lost-all lost!

[Breaking from his guards, he goes up to AYMER. Brother, my brother! hast thou pardon'd me That which I did to save thee? Speak!-forgive! Aym. (turning from him.) Thou see'st I die for thee! She is avenged!

Rai. I am no murderer-hear me!-turn to me!

We are parting by the grave!

[MORAIMA enters veiled, and goes up to MELECH.

Mor. Father!-O! look not sternly on thy child,

I came to plead. They said thou hadst condemn'd A Christian knight to die

Mel.
Away-begone!

Hence to thy tent!

Aym. (attempting to rise.) Moraima -hath her

spirit come

To make death beautiful?

Moraima !-speak.

Mor. It was his voice!-Aymer!

Aym.

[She rushes to him, throwing aside her veil

Thou livest-thou livest!

I knew thou could'st not die !-Look on me still.

Thou livest!—and makest this world so full of joyBut I depart!

Mel. (approaching her.) Moraima!—hence! is this A place for thee?

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There is no place but this for me on earth!
Where should I go? There is no place but this!
My soul is bound to it!

Mel. (to the Guards.) Back, slaves, and look not [They retreat to the background.

on her!

'Twas for this

She droop'd to the earth.

Aym.

Moraima, fare thee well!

Think on me!-I have loved thee! I take hence
That deep love with my soul! for well I know
It must be deathless!

Mor.
What woman's love is!
If I could die for thee!

O thou hast not known
Aymer, Aymer, stay!
My heart is grown

So strong in its despair!

Rai. (turning from them.) And all the past Forgotten our young days!-His last thoughts

hers!

The Infidel's!

Aym. (with a violent effort turning his head round.) Thou art no murderer! Peace

Between us- -peace, my brother!—In our deaths We shall be join'd once more!

Rai. (holding the cross of the sword before him., Look yet on this! Aym. If thou hadst only told me that she lived! -But our hearts meet at last!

[Presses the cross to his lips.

Moraima! save my brother! Look on me!

Joy-there is joy in death!

[He dies on RAIMER's arm.

Mor. Speak-speak once more!

Aymer! how is it that I call on thee,

And that thou answerest not? Have we not loved? Death death!-and this is-death!

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But now knight

farewell! Thou wert the bravest

That e'er laid lance in rest-and thou didst wear The noblest form that ever woman's eye

Dwelt on with love; and till that fatal dream Came o'er thee!- Aymer! Aymer!-thou wert still

The most true-hearted brother!-there thou art Whose breast was once my shield !-I never thought That foes should see me weep! but there thou art, Aymer, my brother!

Mor. (suddenly rising.) With his last, last breath He bade me save his brother!

[Falling at her father's feet. Father, spare

The Christian-spare him!

Mel. For thy sake spare him That slew thy father's son !-Shame to thy race! [To the Soldiers in the background. Soldiers! come nearer with your levell'd spears! Yet nearer;-Gird him in!-my boy's young blood Is on his sword.-Christian, abjure thy faith,

Or die-thine hour is come!

Rai. (turning and throwing himself on the weapons of the Soldiers.) Thou hast mine answer, Infidel!

[Calling aloud to the Knights as he falls back. Knights of France! Herman! De Foix! Du Mornay! be ye strong! Your hour will come!

Must the old war-cry cease

?

[Half raising himself, and waving the Cross triumphantly.

For the Cross-De Chatillon!

[He dies.

(The Curtain falls.)

ANNOTATION

ON

"DE CHATILLON.".

"THE merits of the Siege of Valencia are more of a descriptive than of a strictly dramatic kind; and abounding as it does with fine passages of narrative beauty, and with striking scenes and situations, it is not only not adapted for representation, but on the contrary, the characters are developed by painting much more than by incident. Withal, it wants unity and entireness, and in several places is not only rhetorical but diffuse.

"From the previous writings of the same author, and until the appearance of the Vespers of Palermo, it seemed to be the prevalent opinion of critics, that the genius of Mrs Hemans was not of a dramatic cast-that it expatiated too much in the developement of sentiment, too much in the luxuriancy of description, to be ever brought under the trammels essentially necessary for the success of scenic dialogue.

"The merits of the Vespers are great, and have been acknowledged to be so, not only by the highest of contemporary literary authorities, but by the still more unequivocal testimony of theatrical applause. What has been, has been,' and we wish not to detract one iota from praise so fairly earned; but we must candidly confess, that before the perusal of De Chatillon (although that poem is probably not quite in the state in which it would have been submitted to the world by its writer), we were somewhat infected with the prevailing opinion, that the most successful path of Mrs Hemans did not lead her towards the

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