“The will of heaven be mine. See these traitors; they have formed against me a plot. Tremble, ye traitors, as ye learn an emperor’s vengeance! Let the plebeians be cast into prison; let the nobles bow to the block.” “Accord the block to me, O emperor! for I, Ernani, lord of Arragon, Cordova, and Segovia.” Why does he start and tremble? Is it that he sees his dear mistress again flinging herself at the emperor’s feet? Again she pleads for mercy; again she asks for happiness and justice. “Thou askest, lady, what is already granted; what the king could not forgive, the emperor will not look on as offence.... You are all pardoned!... And as for thee, my lord Ernani, let the memory of the father’s death be forgotten in the justice done his son. Thou art again lord of Arragon, Cordova, and Segovia; and thy lady--behold her!” The new emperor placed the hand of Elvira in that of Ernani. And then again the emperor spoke, “YE ARE ALL PARDONED!” But how black was the menacing cloud near at hand. The old grandee, sternly frowning, and pressing his hand about a certain hunting horn, whose blast was death. PART IV.--THE MASQUERADE. In Sarragossa, in the palace of the reinstated lord, his marriage was being celebrated. Happy at last--the couple bound together for life. The palace of Ernani, or rather Don Giovanni of Arragon, was all ablaze with light; and the pale moonbeams, shooting into the palace-grounds, showed numberless mysterious masquers flitting to and fro. It was a grand masquerade the bridegroom was giving. But among the masquers was one who spoke to nobody; who took note of nobody; who moved along stealthily from group to group with a firm merciless tread. They who looked very closely at the mysterious masquer, noted that his hair was white, and that his eyes glittered fearfully below his mask. “Who is he?” “See how angrily he looketh about him.” “He seemeth a wizard!” Still he took no notice, but went from group to group. * * * * * “Gentle love--thou hast not seen thy lover’s face so oft to-night that thou shouldst wear thy eyelids down; look up, and light my very soul!” “In truth, dear husband, I have some mysterious fear, I know not why, and yet I tremble. A coming ill seemeth near.” “Those who have felt the storm do tremble when the lightning flashes. But now our sky is all unclouded, love; our life as happy as our hearts are light. See how tranquil all about us seems; see, too, the guests are going, the twinkling lights die out each after each, and tell us that the morn is breaking. Dost thou still fear?” “Who that has had nought but fears for what he hath--I fear, my love, I fear. For thee--for thee alone.” A low winding blast upon a horn swept past their ears. “Why dost thou tremble, love, my Ernani? Is the air cold? or have I frightened thee, perchance?” Again the low destroying blast swept past them.