Oh, if only I could scatter the clouds
That oppresses my mind.
Is it day?

Or is it night?
Am I in my apartments?
Or in the tomb?

Listen...
The wind moans all around...
Look, there is the bare, deserted shore!

Look, a solider lays sorely wounded at my side.
But it is not Gualtiero.
It is he... my Ernesto!

He speaks...
He calls his son...
His son is safe!

It was I who rescued him from the $$#assins.
Let the boy be restored to his father,
Who may see him,

Embrace him and forgive me
Before he dies.
Oh, my innocent child, for me implore him...


With the smile of innocence,
With the glance of love,

Of clemency and pardon
Pray, speak to your Father.
Tell him, ah tell him that you live,

Tell him that you are free because of me
So that he may look mercifully
Upon the one who did so much for you.


What is that sound...
Echoing, resounding?

Is it the trumpet of the day of judgement?
Gualtiero! In danger!
He is a prisoner!

Sever his bonds and let him escape.
What do I see?
You are handing him over to the gaolers.

The fatal scaffold has been erected for him!

O Sun, veil yourself in the darkest gloom,

Hide the cruel axe from sight.
But I see the blood flowing already,
It floods over me;

I shall die with horror and suffering!