Calling upon his father, whose last look
Turn’d full on him its parting agony.
The father’s blood gush’d o’er him! and the boy
Then dried his tears, and with a kindling eye,
And a proud flush on his young cheek, look’d up
To the bright heaven.—Doth he remember still
That bitter hour?
2d Sicilian. He bears a sheathless sword!
—Call on the orphan when revenge is nigh.
Pro. Our band shows gallantly—but there are men