Fetch hither the priest!" The dame sprang toward the chief player.
"O, save me!" she cried; "save me from a fate far worse than death! Behold these sad eyes, these sunken cheeks, this withered frame! See thou the wreck this fiend hath made, and let thy heart be moved with pity! Look upon this damosel; note her wasted form, her halting step, her bloomless cheeks where youth should blush and happiness exult in smiles! Hear us and have compassion.

This monster was my husband's brother.

He who should have been our shield against all harm, hath kept us shut within the noisome caverns of his donjon-keep for lo these thirty years.

And for what crime?
None other than that I would not belie my troth, root out my strong love for him who marches with the legions of the cross in Holy Land, (for O, he is not dead!) and wed with him! Save us, O, save thy persecuted suppliants!" She flung herself at his feet and clasped his knees.
"Ha!-ha!-ha!" shouted the brutal Leonardo.

"Priest, to thy work!" and he dragged the weeping dame from her refuge.