Abb. Alas! here secretly
Their marriage vows were pledged.
Aus. He fell in fight.
Abb. Oh! would that it were so. Come nigher, Austin.
That marriage was discovered to the monarch,
And pride, primeval sin of men and angels,
Betrayed the kingly mind, and he—
Aus. Why pause?
Abb. It is a dreadful thing, my son, to drag
Forgotten crime to light, and turn aside
The veil which time hath drawn o'er guilt in pity.
Montalbert secretly was sent to France
On private embassy.—He sought his bride!
His steps were tracked—beneath these walls he fell,
Here breathed his parting groan.
Aus. Hark! midnight strikes!
Abb. Beneath this stone his cold remains were laid,
In stately armour clad, as he desired,
That he might lie, as warrior ought to lie,
Prepared at once to start again to life,
When the last trump shall sound. All save his sword,
All in this grave, name, honours, wrongs, revenge,
Were buried deep.
Aus. Why not his sword?
Abb. The screen
Which darkens life ofttimes unveils futurity;
And simple dying men have proved true prophets.
"This sword," he cried, to our good, weeping father,
"First won from holiest tomb in Palestine,
Hath earnest reaped of glorious deeds to come.
Darkness shall cover France: in that her hour
Of utmost peril, blood of mine shall claim it,
And with it work deliverance. Where it lies
Let none ere know, save those who shall succeed thee."
His wish has been obeyed.
Aus. How of his race?