SCENE IV.—The grand aisle of the abbey, in the upper part of the sanctuary.
Enter Bernardo, St. Clair, and two other monks.
[Flourish of drums and trumpets without.
Bern. You hear! Soon the victorious foe will force our walls; for, can they long sustain the shock of such an host? Or if they could—for what? for whom? Are we agreed?
St. Clair. We are: in a just cause we would uphold our abbot's rights; but when such judges have prounounc'd her traitress, and such brave warriors will support that judgment, shall we, upon the word of one who will adduce no proof of innocence—we, the calm advocates of peace, not war—shall we devote our abbey and ourselves to ruin most inevitable?
Bern. No, haughty prelate! we will teach you now, that those who raised you to your splendid height, have still the power to humble and to crush you. And they who this night come to grace your installation, shall view their idol's downfall. Unbar the gates! (the abbot appears in the aisle, unseen by the monks.) Give the prince palatine free entrance; and let the vengeance of the secret knights fall, as it ought, on those who have provoked it.
Ab. (advancing hastily from the aisle.) Who's he dare utter such profane commands?
Bern. Bellarmin! I!—Unbar the gates!
Ab. Forbear! And think not, brothers, that I court this contest, or willingly involve ye in hard office. But we, who vested with bright mercy's power, can feel the bliss of sparing the unfortunate; shall we, when barbarism, mask'd by pious, plausible pretext, strikes at the growth of every liberal feeling; shall we forego our edict, or uphold it? I say, uphold it! And chiefly on one proof—Manfredi had no daughter! That charge I know to be most groundless.
Bern. You knew Manfredi then! (abbot shows agitation.) He, our new oracle, proclaims he was no stranger to this murderer.