Levites: What can be wanted? Who summoned us...
to this place so late at night?
Ismaele: The pontiff summons you.
- Ismaele!
- Brothers!
- Horror! Away! Begone!
- I implore your mercy!
-Accursed of the Lord!
He who is accursed has no brothers;
no man on earth grant him a word!
Harsh lamentation everywhere arises;
the wind bears it to the wretch's ears!
On his brow, bright as the lightning,
shines God's fatal brand!
Poison is prepared for his lips in vain;
vainly the dagger would pierce his heart!
Poison is prepared for his lips in vain;
vainly the dagger would pierce his heart!
For love of the living God
be done with your curses!
Your fury is driving me mad!
Oh, death, for pity's sake!
Give me death, for pity's sake!
- Accursed of the Lord!
Give me death, for pity's sake!
- Accursed of the Lord!
- Forgive me!
Anna: Brothers, forgive him!
He saved a Judean woman!
Oh, what are you saying!
Zaccaria: Raise psalms of thanks to God everlasting!
It is true!
Fenena: But what a tumult is mounting!
Oh, heaven! What can it be?
Abdallo: Royal lady, flee!
That cry of ill omen...
announces the death of the king!
Oh, father!
Flee!
The people now call for Abigaille...
and condemn these men here.
Why do I tarry longer?
I must not stay here!
To the midst of the impious rebels...
I will hasten!
Stay! Oh, what a misfortune!
High Priest of Baal: Glory be to Abigaille!
Death to the Judeans!
Abigaille: Give me the crown!
I shall die first!
From my head take it!
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