Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 53: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

48 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. I was carried away by her dramatic genius, and rendered my part with fearless enthusiasm, until my eyes fell on Cecil Beaumont, and then I knew not what I sang. There he stood, or rather crouched behind a flag, watch- ing my beautiful sister with a reckless and almost diabolical smile on hishps. Where was now the touching febrile pa- thos of that full-eyed Southern face? This was the bold abandon of a fiend. | I turned from this blasting vision to take up my part again. ‘The orchestra hushed their notes to a gentle whis- per, my voice, trembling as it was with other feelings, rose distinct with Norma’s passionate rejoluder: ‘¢When the heart is cold that should have cherished Every hope of joy it falsely gave Wouldst thou have me live? Ah!no, thou wouldst not! My only haven, alas! is but the grave!” I waited for Isolina’s answering: ‘Hear me, Norma! hear me, I implore thee!” I waited, and the echoes were dying. What has smitten Isolina? The wild eyes are fixed as if in a trance—her lips are whitening—her hands clasped. Doubt, sudden horror de- pict themselves upon the blanching face; she shrinks back, and with a soft Atolian-like brush of her heavy robe across the harp-strings, she sank at my feet. The effect was electric. There was a hush as of death, broken presently by the sound of hysterical weeping and cries of alarm. Confusion prevailed. CHAPTER. VI. BAFFLED AFTER ALL. “QO life as futile—then, as frail! O for thy voice to soothe and bless! What hope of answer or redress, Behind the vail! behind the vail!’—Ternnyson. I stood there as still as my white-faced sister, powerless with dismay. I gazed with keen eyes into the heart of the throng where she had gazed, and nothing but faces of cone CONN (7) LIAOO (©)