"On whom?"
"On him. On his house. On all your enemies."
"How can I, a weak and timid girl?"
"Listen to me, Camilla. To you only, to the noble daughter of the noble Boëthius, will I unfold what I would trust to no other woman on earth. There exists a powerful league of patriots, who have sworn to extirpate the barbarians from the face of this country. The sword of revenge hangs trembling over the heads of the tyrants. The fatherland and the shade of your father call upon you to cause it to fall."
"Upon me? I--revenge my father? Speak!" cried the maiden, her face glowing as she stroked back the dark locks from her temples.
"There must be a sacrifice. Rome demands it."
"My blood, my life! Like Virginia will I die!"
"No; you shall live to triumph in your revenge. The King loves you. You must go to Ravenna, to court. You shall destroy him by means of his love. We have no power over him, but you will gain the mastery over his soul."
"Destroy him!"
She seemed strangely moved as she spoke thus in a low voice. Her bosom heaved; her voice trembled with the force of her opposing feelings. Tears burst from her eyes, she buried her face in her hands.