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"O God!" cried Lucy, sorrowfully clasping her hands, and raising

her eyes to heaven; "why didst thou not take me to thyself! O

Renzo! what have you done! Alas! I hoped--that with time--I

should have driven from my memory--"

"A kind hope indeed! and to say so to me!"

"Oh! what have you done! in this place! in the midst of these

sorrows! Here, where there is nothing but death, you have

dared--"

"We must pray to God for those who die, and trust that they will

be happy; but their calamity is no reason why those who live must

live in despair--"

"But Renzo! Renzo! you know not what you say; a promise to the

Virgin! a vow!"

"I tell you, such promises are good for nothing."

"Oh! where have you been all this time? with whom have you

associated, that you speak thus?"

"I speak as a good Christian. I think better of the Virgin than

you do, because I do not believe vows to the injury of others are

acceptable to her. If the Virgin had spoken herself, oh! then

indeed--but it is simply an idea of your own!"