Pale in their innocent beauty, which had fail’d

To stay the assassin’s arm!

Raim. Oh, righteous Heaven!

Who had done this?

Mon. Who!

Pro. Canst thou question, who?

Whom hath the earth to perpetrate such deeds,

In the cold-blooded revelry of crime,

But those whose yoke is on us?

Raim. Man of woe!