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To these enter the Countess Tertsky, pale and disordered.
Her utterance is slow and feeble, and unempassioned.
Oct. (meeting her) O Countess Tertsky! These are
They are the fruits
O Countess ! my
The Empress honours your adversity,
mercy of a greater Master
Oct. Countess, you tremble, you turn pale!
Oct. Help! Help! Support her!
Nay, it is too late.
Gor. O house of death and horrors !
(An officer enters, and brings a letter with the
great seal.) Gor. (steps forward and meets him) What is this? It is the Imperial seal.
(He reads the address, and delivers the letter to
Octavio with a look of reproach, and with an
emphasis on the word.) To the Prince Piccolomini. Oct. (with his whole frame expressive of sudden anguish,
raises his eyes to heaven.)
The Curtain drops.
Printed by W. H. Cox, 5, Great Queen Street, London.