2 Cit. Ay, so 'tis said,
To die before that gate thro' which he purposed
The foe should enter in.
3 Cit. 'Twas a vile plot!
And yet I would my hands were pure as his
From the deep stain of blood. Didst hear the sounds
I'th' air last night?
2 Cit. Since the great work of slaughter,
Who hath not heard them duly, at those hours
Which should be silent?
3 Cit. Oh! the fearful mingling,
The terrible mimicry of human voices,
In every sound which to the heart doth speak
Of woe and death.
2 Cit. Ay, there was woman's shrill
And piercing cry; and the low feeble wail
Of dying infants; and the half-suppress'd
Deep groan of man in his last agonies!
And now and then there swell'd upon the breeze
Strange, savage bursts of laughter, wilder far
Than all the rest.
1 Cit. Of our own fate, perchance
These awful midnight wailings may be deem'd
An ominous prophecy.—Should France regain
Her power amongst us, doubt not, we shall have
Stern reckoners to account with.—Hark!
(The sound of trumpets is heard at distance.
2 Cit. 'Twas but
A rushing of the breeze.
H
