Scene V.
Antonietta, Matilda, Gonzaga, and Carmagnola.
Ant. My husband!
Mat. Oh! my father!
Ant. Is it thus
That thou return'st? and is this the hour
Desir'd so long?
Car. O ye afflicted ones!
Heaven knows I dread its pangs for you alone.
Long have my thoughts been us'd to look on Death,
And calmly wait his time. For you alone
My soul hath need of firmness; will ye, then,
Deprive me of its aid?—When the Most High
On virtue pours afflictions, he bestows
The courage to sustain them. Oh! let yours
Equal your sorrows! Let us yet find joy
In this embrace, 'tis still a gift of Heaven.
Thou weep'st, my child! and thou, beloved wife!
Ah! when I made thee mine, thy days flowed on
In peace and gladness; I united thee
To my disastrous fate, and now the thought
Embitters death. Oh! that I had not seen
The woes I cause thee!
Ant. Husband of my youth!
Of my bright days, thou who did'st make them bright,
Read thou my heart! the pangs of death are there,
And yet, e'en now—I would not but be thine.
Car. Full well I know how much I lose in thee;
Oh! make me not too deeply feel it now.
Mat. The homicides!
Car. No, sweet Matilda, no!
Let no dark thought of rage or vengeance rise
To cloud thy gentle spirit, and disturb
These moments—they are sacred. Yes! my wrongs
Are deep, but, thou, forgive them, and confess,
That, e'en midst all the fulness of our woe.
High, holy joy remains—Death! Death!—our foes,
Our most relentless foes, can only speed
Th' inevitable hour. Oh! man hath not
Invented death for man; it would be then
Maddening and insupportable;—from Heaven
'Tis sent, and Heaven doth temper all its pangs
With such blest comfort, as no mortal power
Can give or take away. My wife! my child!
Hear my last words—they wring your bosoms now
