Tancred and Sigismunda.
Sigis.Ah fatal day to Sicily! The king Approaches his last moments?
Laur.So 'tis fear'd.
Sigis.The death of those distinguish'd by their station, But by their virtue more, awakes the mind To solemn dread, and strikes a fadd'ning awe: Not that we grieve for them, but for ourselves, Left to the toil of life - And yet the best
Laur.The fears of love-sick fancy! Perversely busy to torment itself. But be assur'd your father's steady friendship, Join'd to a certain genius, that commands, Not kneels to fortune, will support and cherish, Here in the public eye of Sicily, This - I may call him - his adopted son, The noble Tancred, form'd to all his virtues.
Sigis.Ah form'd to charm his daughter! - This fair morn Has tempted far the chace. Is he not yet Return'd?
Laur.No. - When your father to the king, Who now expiring lies, was call'd in haste, He sent each was his messengers to find him; With such a look of ardour and impatience, As if this near event was to Count Tancred, Of more importance than I comprehend.
Sigis.There lies, my Laure, o'er my Tancred's birth,