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Mother of God! said the Friar, is it possible my Lord can refuse a father the life of his only, his long-lost child! Trample me, my Lord, scorn, afflict me, accept my life for his, but spare my son! Thou canst feel then, said Manfred, what it is to lose an only son!—a little hour ago thou didst preach up resignation to me: My House, if fate so pleased, must perish—but the Count of Falconara—alas! my Lord, said Jerome, I confess I have offended; but aggravate not an old man's sufferings! I boast not of my family, nor think of such vanities—it is nature that pleads for this boy; it is the memory of the dear woman that bore him—is she Theodore, is she dead?—Her soul has long been with the blessed: Said Theodore. Oh! how? cried Jerome, tell me—No—she is happy! Thou art all my care now!—most dread Lord! will you—will you grant me my poor boy's life? Return to thy convent; answered Manfred; conduct the Princess hither; obey me in what else thou knowest; and I promise thee the lifeof
