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cried Matilda sinking; good heaven, receive my soul! Savage, inhuman monster! what hast thou done! cried Theodore, rushing on him, and wrenching his dagger from him—Stop, stop thy impious hand! cried Matilda; it is my father! Manfred waking as from a trance, beat his breast, twisted his hands in his locks, and endeavoured to recover his dagger from Theodore to dispatch himself. Theodore scarce less distracted, and only mastering the transports of his grief to assist Matilda, had now by his cries drawn some of the monks to his aid. While part of them endeavoured in concert with the afflicted Theodore to stop the blood of the dying Princess, the rest prevented Manfred from laying violent hands on himself.
Matilda resigning herself patiently to her fate, acknowledged with looks of grateful love the zeal of Theodore. Yet oft as her faintness would permit her speech its way, she begged the assistants to comfort her father. Jerome by this time had learnt the fatal news, and reached thechurch,
