XXXI.

He pass’d me--and what next? I look’d on two, Following his footsteps to the same dread place, For the same guilt--his sisters![292] Well I knew The beauty on those brows, though each young face Was changed--so deeply changed!--a dungeon’s air Is hard for loved and lovely things to bear. And ye, O daughters of a lofty race, Queen-like Theresa! radiant Inez!--flowers So cherish’d! were ye then but rear’d for those dark hours?