Rolla. Cora’s crime!—speak!—answer me!
A Priest. Away from this spot!—It is cursed for Cora’s sake.
Rolla. Curses upon thyself, thou damned babbler!—But say!—why these solemn preparations?—for what miserable victim is this grave designed?
(Chorus of Priests.)
Brethren!—the grave’s prepar’d!—away!
Bring Cora hither!—hence!—obey!—
That perishing in earth’s dark womb
Which must her living form entomb,
She a sin-offering may become, for sin;