To snatch thee, and I grappled with their might,—
Wrestled with them in darkness, and o’ercame them.
Bright star, emerging sole on my fate’s blackness,
Shed thy last light on me! (kneeling) ’twill be the last!
— — — — —
— — — — —
Adel. (solemnly.) I am the child of woe,
Of persecution, and of mystery;
Fredolfo’s name—the name his country worships—
Rung in my infant dreams.—I was a boy,