sins, thank heaven, have not been numerous; nor exceed what might
be expected at my years. Dry your tears, good Father, and let us
despatch. This is a bad world; nor have I had cause to leave it
with regret."

"Oh wretched youth!" said Jerome; "how canst thou bear the sight of
me with patience? I am thy murderer! it is I have brought this
dismal hour upon thee!"

"I forgive thee from my soul," said the youth, "as I hope heaven
will pardon me. Hear my confession, Father; and give me thy
blessing."

"How can I prepare thee for thy passage as I ought?" said Jerome.
"Thou canst not be saved without pardoning thy foes--and canst thou
forgive that impious man there?"

"I can," said Theodore; "I do."

"And does not this touch thee, cruel Prince?" said the Friar.

"I sent for thee to confess him," said Manfred, sternly; "not to
plead for him. Thou didst first incense me against him--his blood
be upon thy head!"

"It will! it will!" said the good main, in an agony of sorrow.
"Thou and I must never hope to go where this blessed youth is
going!"

"Despatch!" said Manfred; "I am no more to be moved by the whining