"Stop, I adjure thee," cried Hippolita: "remember thou dost not
depend on thyself; thou hast a father."

"My father is too pious, too noble," interrupted Isabella, "to
command an impious deed. But should he command it; can a father
enjoin a cursed act? I was contracted to the son, can I wed the
father? No, madam, no; force should not drag me to Manfred's hated
bed. I loathe him, I abhor him: divine and human laws forbid--and
my friend, my dearest Matilda! would I wound her tender soul by
injuring her adored mother? my own mother--I never have known
another" -

"Oh! she is the mother of both!" cried Matilda: "can we, can we,
Isabella, adore her too much?"

"My lovely children," said the touched Hippolita, "your tenderness
overpowers me--but I must not give way to it. It is not ours to
make election for ourselves: heaven, our fathers, and our husbands
must decide for us. Have patience until you hear what Manfred and
Frederic have determined. If the Marquis accepts Matilda's hand, I
know she will readily obey. Heaven may interpose and prevent the
rest. What means my child?" continued she, seeing Matilda fall at
her feet with a flood of speechless tears--"But no; answer me not,
my daughter: I must not hear a word against the pleasure of thy
father."

"Oh! doubt not my obedience, my dreadful obedience to him and to
you!" said Matilda. "But can I, most respected of women, can I
experience all this tenderness, this world of goodness, and conceal