"Often—but this day last month as far as I remember—I sat here very unhappy!"
"Impossible! a month ago there was a gay picnic here, how could you have been here? you were not there."
"Easily; you remember the Italian boy, who played and sung—that boy was I—is it not now explained?"
"Oh! merciful Heavens—that boy you—yes, I know the voice now. Oh! there is a deep, deep plot! Antonia, if you love me, tell me all. How strange! I seem to see things differently. Oh! who are you, mysterious maiden?"
"I cannot, remember your promise not to ask me, but the explanation will not now be distant—to-night it will come. Have you the dagger still?"
"Oh! Antonia, you alarm me; it is true, I was beginning to grow forgetful; then, the trial is at hand; you shall see I can be firm to death!"
"Poor girl, I pity you from my heart!"
"Then, why not let deeds show your pity—let me fly."
"I dare not, lady! I dare not. I was sworn by the blessed Virgin—you would not I should break my oath!"
"Then, let it come; you will see how Ellen can die, if that death only saves her from dishonour!"