occasioned what I heard! Is the Princess then again in thy power?” 

“Thou dost but remember me of my wrath,” said Manfred. “Prepare thee, for this moment is thy last.” 

The youth, who felt his indignation rise, and who was touched with the sorrow which he saw he had infused into all the spectators, as well as into the Friar, suppressed his emotions, and putting off his doublet, and unbuttoning his collar, knelt down to his prayers. As he stooped, his shirt slipped down below his shoulder, and discovered the mark of a bloody arrow. 

“Gracious heaven!” cried the holy man, starting; “what do I see? It is my child! my Theodore!” 

The passions that ensued must be conceived; they cannot be painted. The tears of the assistants were suspended by wonder, rather than stopped by joy. They seemed to inquire in the eyes of their Lord what they ought to feel. Surprise, doubt, tenderness, respect, succeeded each other in the countenance of the youth. He received with modest submission the effusion of the old man’s tears and embraces. Yet afraid of giving a loose to hope, and suspecting from what had passed the inflexibility of Manfred’s temper, he cast a glance towards the Prince, as if to say, canst thou be unmoved at such a scene as this? 

Manfred’s heart was capable of being touched. He forgot his anger in his astonishment; yet his pride forbade his owning himself affected. He even doubted whether this discovery was not a contrivance of the Friar to save the youth. 

“What may this mean?” said he. “How can he be thy son? Is it consistent with thy profession or reputed sanctity to avow a peasant’s offspring for the fruit of thy irregular amours!” 

“Oh, God!” said the holy man, “dost thou question his being mine? Could I feel the anguish I do if I were not his father? Spare him! good Prince! spare him! and revile me as thou pleasest.” 

“Spare him! spare him!” cried the attendants; “for this good man’s sake!” 

“Peace!” said Manfred, sternly. “I must know more ere I am disposed to pardon. A Saint’s bastard may be no saint himself.” 

“Injurious Lord!” said Theodore, “add not insult to cruelty. If I am this venerable man’s son, though no Prince, as thou art, know the blood that flows in my veins—” 

“Yes,” said the Friar, interrupting him, “his blood is 

 Prev. P 36/89 next