On the ramparts of Bawn co Pagh Castle. Vergli and Verita, the latter
in male attire, are pacing up and down conversing earnestly.
_Vergli_ (passionately): “And they are captives, while I stand here
free! Alas! ’tis terrible. What _can_ I do? Isola, you a captive and
condemned, Vulnar likewise and faithful Scrutus, too? Condemned to
die for giving me my life! Shades of Iniquity! Horrible fact! Isola,
whom I love, condemned to death, Vulnar, whose home protects this
wanderer, Scrutus, who was the first to stand by me, All doomed to
die, all doomed to die _for me_.”
[_He sobs._
_Verita._ “Not so, Vergli. Fret not. They fight for Truth, Of which you
are the representative; They die that you may live to win that prize
And give it, from them, to posterity. Vergli, live to reward their
sacrifice, Live to see triumph—that for which they’ll die I know I
echo dear Isola’s thoughts, Do you not feel them hov’ring round you
now?”
_Vergli._ “Yes, they steal round me, gently kissing me, Bidding me be a
hero not a cur. Dearest Isola, I shall work for you And win the Right
we both desire so much. To go to you, to die by your dear side, That
is _the wish_ of Vergli’s yearning heart; To live for you, to win the
Truth you love, Shall be _the duty_ done for you and Right.”
_Verita._ “Spoken as heroes speak, noble Vergli, Your answ’ring words
will cheer Isola’s heart; They’ll flood with light her prison’s
lonely cell And bring her happiness and restful peace. Now will I
start for Infantlonia. There! The sun is sinking, all is red _and
gold_, The colours flood the far off western sky. Red is Blood’s
sign, but Gold’s the sign of Truth, And Martyr’s blood _shall_ win
Truth’s victory.”
[_She bids Vergli farewell and goes._
_Vergli_ (solus): “Mine be the task to wake a sleeping world And force
it to espouse the cause of Truth. Merani, Mother! Dost thou hear thy
son? Thy dear lips taught him Truth. Thy noble words Live all
unfading in his Memory. Thou art not dead. Thy life is with me now. I
am thyself, I am thy property. What I do that thou doest, Mother
mine, My voice is but the echo of thy own. And you, Isola, your
thought hovers near Mixing with ours, making mine doubly strong. Oh!
Thought amalgamate with subtle force, Flood me with pow’r to think
and to express And to enforce it on Humanity. Thought, mighty
Thought, essence of God Divine, Wax great and multiply. Attain the
Truth.”
[_He enters the Castle of Bawn co Pagh._