[Exit Guido.
Raim. (after a pause.) Rise, dearest, rise!
Thy duty’s task hath nobly been fulfill’d,
E’en in the face of death; but all is o’er,
And this is now no place where nature’s tears
In quiet sanctity may freely flow.
—Hark! the wild sounds that wait on fearful deeds
Are swelling on the winds, as the deep roar
Of fast-advancing billows; and for thee
I shame not thus to tremble.—Speed! oh, speed!