Mi. He is in danger—perhaps is already no more! oh, speed for his aid! rescue him, if possible; if too late, avenge him! if he still lives, I suspect the place of his confinement, and can guide you thither: if this bloody deed is already accomplished, at least let us punish the crimes of his assassin, the monster Cœlestino!
Vice. His assassin!
Hor. Cœlestino? stay, brother, stay! will you on the word of an unknown believe that a man whose whole course of life has been so pure, so pious—
Mi. Nay, lady, for heaven’s love delay us not; these moments are precious, are dreadful! these moments decide the life or death of a human being—come, come, my lord! let the prior be seized; terror will doubtless compel him to confess my charge! secure, too, the abbess of the Ursulines; she can confirm my story; she well knows that the prior’s licentious love for your niece, for the murdered Josepha—
Hor. Murdered? my child?
Vice. Horror crowds on horror! within there! my servants! my guards! away to the monastery; if there denied admittance, we’ll force the gates!—Venoni, thou shalt be preserved, or avenged most dreadfully. On, on, good friar! away! Exeunt.
Hor. (alone) Can it be? Cœlestino—the abbess—he, whom I ever thought so holy—she, in whom I reposed such fatal confidence?—distracting doubts, I must be satisfied;—yes! I’ll hasten to the Ursulines; I’ll interrogate the abbess myself! I’ll question—I’ll threaten; and if I find her guilty—oh! then if her heart possesses but one feeling fibre, it will surely writhe with agony, when she hears the groans, when she sees the anguish of a despairing, of a childless mother! Exit.
[SCENE III.]—An apartment in the Ursuline convent decorated for a festival—the back part is filled up by a dark-coloured curtain—night.
The prior enters preceded by a friar with a torch, and followed by Veronica.
Ve. Yet hear me, Cœlestino!