High blaze the flames, the red reflexions shimmering from each white-robed priest, from the robes even of her weeping father. Higher and higher till the victim is turned to light ashes for the wind to drift whithersoever it will! ROBERTO IL DIAVOLO. (MEYERBEER.) ROBERT THE DEVIL. THE PROLOGUE. Richard II., Duke of Normandy, who lived some forty years before the conquest of Great Britain by William, was without an heir to his dukedom. He prayed wearily for an heir--but never a child had he. At last he made a vow, in the presence of his courtiers, that if the demon’s power could grant him a son, he would dedicate that son to the demon himself--sell him and his soul to the fallen angel! The courtiers were breathless with astonishment. Soon they remarked a change in the king, of which he himself was not aware. His face altered--his brow grew dark and heavy--his step slow, firm, and yet light. All color left his cheeks, and his lips grew pale and thin. The veins of his forehead could be traced--a deep blue color wandering beneath the skin; and his eyes grew mournful in their light. His hair fell about his head in deep waving folds--and he seemed the victim of utter despair. Yet he was known by all as the duke--the same as ever, and yet wholly changed. Nobody who had known him before this change came on but bowed to him as the duke; yet all who had so known him whispered that he was changed as never man changed who was not possessed of a devil. Then great wonders began to be marked in Normandy. Storms would rise without warning and sweep over the land as though heaven was wrath. And while the storms lasted, moans were heard in the air--low, wailing, gentle moans--like the sighs of angels. Then, too, from the deep caverns came loud clattering laughs--peal on peal--like mocking thunder. Soon it became known that an heir would be born to the duke. Then might be seen stretching across the heavens a great flaming sword of fire, its edge ever trembling and surrounded by vaporous clouds. At last, in a louder strain than any of that year--in the midst of shrieking winds such as had never before been heard by all who lived--the heir was born. Duke Richard was no longer childless! Very beautiful was the child. But those who saw him, noticed that his features were like his father’s, that his skin was colorless, and that his eyes lacked the sparkling brightness of infancy. The attention of the courtiers being fully roused, they began to observe that the father regained his old looks and ways. His color came back; his eyes again flashed brightly, the sound of his foot was again heard, and once more he laughed. And they said among themselves that the change they had marked was caused by anxiety, and that now his son was born to him, he was himself again.