The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy
Friedrich Schiller




Friedrich Schiller

The Bride of Messina / A Tragedy





DRAMATIS PERSONAE


ISABELLA, Princess of Messina.

DON MANUEL | her Sons.

DON CAESAR |

BEATRICE.

DIEGO, an ancient Servant.

MESSENGERS.

THE ELDERS OF MESSINA, mute.

THE CHORUS, consisting of the Followers of the two Princes.




SCENE I




A spacious hall, supported on columns, with entrances on both sides;

at the back of the stage a large folding-door leading to a chapel.

DONNA ISABELLA in mourning; the ELDERS OF MESSINA.



ISABELLA

		Forth from my silent chamber's deep recesses,
		Gray Fathers of the State, unwillingly
		I come; and, shrinking from your gaze, uplift
		The veil that shades my widowed brows: the light
		And glory of my days is fled forever!
		And best in solitude and kindred gloom
		To hide these sable weeds, this grief-worn frame,
		Beseems the mourner's heart. A mighty voice
		Inexorable – duty's stern command,
		Calls me to light again.
		Not twice the moon
		Has filled her orb since to the tomb ye bore
		My princely spouse, your city's lord, whose arm
		Against a world of envious foes around
		Hurled fierce defiance! Still his spirit lives
		In his heroic sons, their country's pride:
		Ye marked how sweetly from their childhood's bloom
		They grew in joyous promise to the years
		Of manhood's strength; yet in their secret hearts,
		From some mysterious root accursed, upsprung
		Unmitigable, deadly hate, that spurned
		All kindred ties, all youthful, fond affections,
		Still ripening with their thoughtful age; not mine
		The sweet accord of family bliss; though each
		Awoke a mother's rapture; each alike
		Smiled at my nourishing breast! for me alone
		Yet lives one mutual thought, of children's love;
		In these tempestuous souls discovered else
		By mortal strife and thirst of fierce revenge.

		While yet their father reigned, his stern control
		Tamed their hot spirits, and with iron yoke
		To awful justice bowed their stubborn will:
		Obedient to his voice, to outward seeming
		They calmed their wrathful mood, nor in array
		Ere met, of hostile arms; yet unappeased
		Sat brooding malice in their bosoms' depths;
		They little reek of hidden springs whose power
		Can quell the torrent's fury: scarce their sire
		In death had closed his eyes, when, as the spark
		That long in smouldering embers sullen lay,
		Shoots forth a towering flame; so unconfined
		Burst the wild storm of brothers' hate triumphant
		O'er nature's holiest bands. Ye saw, my friends,
		Your country's bleeding wounds, when princely strife
		Woke discord's maddening fires, and ranged her sons
		In mutual deadly conflict; all around
		Was heard the clash of arms, the din of carnage,
		And e'en these halls were stained with kindred gore.

		Torn was the state with civil rage, this heart
		With pangs that mothers feel; alas, unmindful
		Of aught but public woes, and pitiless
		You sought my widow's chamber – there with taunts
		And fierce reproaches for your country's ills
		From that polluted spring of brother's hate
		Derived, invoked a parent's warning voice,
		And threatening told of people's discontent
		And princes' crimes! "Ill-fated land! now wasted
		By thy unnatural sons, ere long the prey
		Of foeman's sword! Oh, haste," you cried, "and end
		This strife! bring peace again, or soon Messina
		Shall bow to other lords." Your stern decree
		Prevailed; this heart, with all a mother's anguish
		O'erlabored, owned the weight of public cares.
		I flew, and at my children's feet, distracted,
		A suppliant lay; till to my prayers and tears
		The voice of nature answered in their breasts!

		Here in the palace of their sires, unarmed,
		In peaceful guise Messina shall behold
		The long inveterate foes; this is the day!
		E'en now I wait the messenger that brings
		The tidings of my sons' approach: be ready
		To give your princes joyful welcome home
		With reverence such as vassals may beseem.
		Bethink ye to fulfil your subject duties,
		And leave to better wisdom weightier cares.
		Dire was their strife to them, and to the State
		Fruitful of ills; yet, in this happy bond
		Of peace united, know that they are mighty
		To stand against a world in arms, nor less
		Enforce their sovereign will against yourselves.



[The ELDERS retire in silence; she beckons to an old attendant, who remains.


		Diego!


DIEGO

		Honored mistress!


ISABELLA

		Old faithful servant, then true heart, come near me;
		Sharer of all a mother's woes, be thine
		The sweet communion of her joys: my treasure
		Shrined in thy heart, my dear and holy secret
		Shall pierce the envious veil, and shine triumphant
		To cheerful day; too long by harsh decrees,
		Silent and overpowered, affection yet
		Shall utterance find in Nature's tones of rapture!
		And this imprisoned heart leap to the embrace
		Of all it holds most dear, returned to glad
		My desolate halls;
		So bend thy aged steps
		To the old cloistered sanctuary that guards
		The darling of my soul, whose innocence
		To thy true love (sweet pledge of happier days)!
		Trusting I gave, and asked from fortune's storm
		A resting place and shrine. Oh, in this hour
		Of bliss; the dear reward of all thy cares.
		Give to my longing arms my child again!



[Trumpets are heard in the distance.


		Haste! be thy footsteps winged with joy – I hear
		The trumpet's blast, that tells in warlike accents
		My sons are near:



[Exit DIEGO. Music is heard in an opposite direction, and becomes gradually louder.


		Messina is awake!
		Hark! how the stream of tongues hoarse murmuring
		Rolls on the breeze, – 'tis they! my mother's heart
		Feels their approach, and beats with mighty throes
		Responsive to the loud, resounding march!
		They come! they come! my children! oh, my children!



[Exit.

The CHORUS enters.

(It consists of two semi-choruses which enter at the same time from opposite sides, and after marching round the stage range themselves in rows, each on the side by which it entered. One semi-chorus consists of young knights, the other of older ones, each has its peculiar costume and ensigns. When the two choruses stand opposite to each other, the march ceases, and the two leaders speak.)

[The first chorus consists of Cajetan, Berengar, Manfred, Tristan, and eight followers of Don Manuel. The second of Bohemund, Roger, Hippolyte, and nine others of the party of Don Caesar.



First Chorus (CAJETAN)

		I greet ye, glittering halls
		Of olden time
		Cradle of kings! Hail! lordly roof,
		In pillared majesty sublime!

		Sheathed be the sword!
		In chains before the portal lies
		The fiend with tresses snake-entwined,
		Fell Discord! Gently treat the inviolate floor!
		Peace to this royal dome!
		Thus by the Furies' brood we swore,
		And all the dark, avenging Deities!


Second Chorus (BOHEMUND)

		I rage! I burn! and scarce refrain
		To lift the glittering steel on high,
		For, lo! the Gorgon-visaged train
		Of the detested foeman nigh:
		Shall I my swelling heart control?
		To parley deign – or still in mortal strife
		The tumult of my soul?
		Dire sister, guardian of the spot, to thee
		Awe-struck I bend the knee,
		Nor dare with arms profane thy deep tranquillity!


First Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Welcome the peaceful strain!
		Together we adore the guardian power
		Of these august abodes!
		Sacred the hour
		To kindred brotherly ties
		And reverend, holy sympathies; —
		Our hearts the genial charm shall own,
		And melt awhile at friendship's soothing tone: —
		But when in yonder plain
		We meet – then peace away!
		Come gleaming arms, and battle's deadly fray!


The whole Chorus

		But when in yonder plain
		We meet – then peace away!
		Come gleaming arms, and battle's deadly fray!


First Chorus (BERENGAR)

		I hate thee not – nor call thee foe,
		My brother! this our native earth,
		The land that gave our fathers birth: —
		Of chief's behest the slave decreed,
		The vassal draws the sword at need,
		For chieftain's rage we strike the blow,
		For stranger lords our kindred blood must flow.


Second Chorus (BOHEMUND)

		Hate fires their souls – we ask not why; —
		At honor's call to fight and die,
		Boast of the true and brave!
		Unworthy of a soldier's name
		Who burns not for his chieftain's fame!


The whole Chorus

		Unworthy of a soldier's name
		Who burns not for his chieftain's fame!


One of the Chorus (BERENGAR)

		Thus spoke within my bosom's core
		The thought – as hitherward I strayed;
		And pensive 'mid the waving store,
		I mused, of autumn's yellow glade: —
		These gifts of nature's bounteous reign, —
		The teeming earth, and golden grain,
		Yon elms, among whose leaves entwine
		The tendrils of the clustering vine; —
		Gay children of our sunny clime, —
		Region of spring's eternal prime!
		Each charm should woo to love and joy,
		No cares the dream of bliss annoy,
		And pleasure through life's summer day
		Speed every laughing hour away.
		We rage in blood, – oh, dire disgrace!
		For this usurping, alien race;
		From some far distant land they came,
		Beyond the sun's departing flame.
		And owned upon our friendly shore
		The welcome of our sires of yore.
		Alas! their sons in thraldom pine,
		The vassals of this stranger line.


A second (MANFRED)

		Yes! pleased, on our land, from his azure way,
		The sun ever smiles with unclouded ray.
		But never, fair isle, shall thy sons repose
		'Mid the sweets which the faithless waves enclose.
		On their bosom they wafted the corsair bold,
		With his dreaded barks to our coast of old.
		For thee was thy dower of beauty vain,
		'Twas the treasure that lured the spoiler's train.
		Oh, ne'er from these smiling vales shall rise
		A sword for our vanquished liberties;
		'Tis not where the laughing Ceres reigns,
		And the jocund lord of the flowery plains: —
		Where the iron lies hid in the mountain cave,
		Is the cradle of empire – the home of the brave!



[The folding-doors at the back of the stage are thrown open.

DONNA ISABELLA appears between her sons, DON MANUEL and DON CAESAR.



Both Choruses (CAJETAN)

		Lift high the notes of praise!
		Behold! where lies the awakening sun,
		She comes, and from her queenly brow
		Shoots glad, inspiring rays.
		Mistress, we bend to thee!


First Chorus

		Fair is the moon amid the starry choir
		That twinkle o'er the sky,
		Shining in silvery, mild tranquillity; —
		The mother with her sons more fair!
		See! blooming at her side,
		She leads the royal, youthful pair;
		With gentle grace, and soft, maternal pride,
		Attempering sweet their manly fire.


Second Chorus (BERENGAR)

		From this fair stem a beauteous tree
		With ever-springing boughs shall smile,
		And with immortal verdure shade our isle;
		Mother of heroes, joy to thee!
		Triumphant as the sun thy kingly race
		Shall spread from clime to clime,
		And give a deathless name to rolling time!


ISABELLA (comes forward with her SONS)

		Look down! benignant Queen of Heaven, and still,
		This proud tumultuous heart, that in my breast
		Swells with a mother's tide of ecstasy,
		As blazoned in these noble youths, my image
		More perfect shows; – Oh, blissful hour! the first
		That comprehends the fulness of my joy,
		When long-constrained affection dares to pour
		In unison of transport from my heart,
		Unchecked, a parent's undivided love:
		Oh! it was ever one – my sons were twain.
		Say – shall I revel in the dreams of bliss,
		And give my soul to Nature's dear emotions?
		Is this warm pressure of thy brother's hand
		A dagger in thy breast?



[To DON MANUEL.


		Or when my eyes
		Feed on that brow with love's enraptured gaze,
		Is it a wrong to thee?



[To DON CAESAR.


		Trembling, I pause,
		Lest e'en affection's breath should wake the fires
		Of slumbering hate.



[After regarding both with inquiring looks


		Speak! In your secret hearts
		What purpose dwells? Is it the ancient feud
		Unreconciled, that in your father's halls
		A moment stilled; beyond the castle gates,
		Where sits infuriate war, and champs the bit —
		Shall rage anew in mortal, bloody conflict?


Chorus (BOHEMUND)

		Concord or strife – the fate's decree
		Is bosomed yet in dark futurity!
		What comes, we little heed to know,
		Prepared for aught the hour may show!


ISABELLA (looking round)

		What mean these arms? this warlike, dread array,
		That in the palace of your sires portends
		Some fearful issue? needs a mother's heart
		Outpoured, this rugged witness of her joys?
		Say, in these folding arms shall treason hide
		The deadly snare? Oh, these rude, pitiless men,
		The ministers of your wrath! – trust not the show
		Of seeming friendship; treachery in their breasts
		Lurks to betray, and long-dissembled hate.
		Ye are a race of other lands; your sires
		Profaned their soil; and ne'er the invader's yoke
		Was easy – never in the vassal's heart
		Languished the hope of sweet revenge; – our sway
		Not rooted in a people's love, but owns
		Allegiance from their fears; with secret joy —
		For conquest's ruthless sword, and thraldom's chains
		From age to age, they wait the atoning hour
		Of princes' downfall; – thus their bards awake
		The patriot strain, and thus from sire to son
		Rehearsed, the old traditionary tale
		Beguiles the winter's night. False is the world,
		My sons, and light are all the specious ties
		By fancy twined: friendship – deceitful name!
		Its gaudy flowers but deck our summer fortune,
		To wither at the first rude breath of autumn!
		So happy to whom heaven has given a brother;
		The friend by nature signed – the true and steadfast!
		Nature alone is honest – nature only —
		When all we trusted strews the wintry shore —
		On her eternal anchor lies at rest,
		Nor heeds the tempest's rage.


DON MANUEL

		My mother!


DON CAESAR

		Hear me


ISABELLA (taking their hands)

		Be noble, and forget the fancied wrongs
		Of boyhood's age: more godlike is forgiveness
		Than victory, and in your father's grave
		Should sleep the ancient hate: – Oh, give your days
		Renewed henceforth to peace and holy love!



[She recedes one or two steps, as if to give them space to approach each other. Both fix their eyes on the ground without regarding one another.



ISABELLA (after awaiting for some time, with suppressed emotion, a demonstration on the part of her sons)

		I can no more; my prayers – my tears are vain: —
		'Tis well! obey the demon in your hearts!
		Fulfil your dread intent, and stain with blood
		The holy altars of your household gods; —
		These halls that gave you birth, the stage where murder
		Shall hold his festival of mutual carnage
		Beneath a mother's eye! – then, foot to foot,
		Close, like the Theban pair, with maddening gripe,
		And fold each other in a last embrace!
		Each press with vengeful thrust the dagger home,
		And "Victory!" be your shriek of death: – nor then
		Shall discord rest appeased; the very flame
		That lights your funeral pyre shall tower dissevered
		In ruddy columns to the skies, and tell
		With horrid image – "thus they lived and died!"



[She goes away; the BROTHERS stand as before.



Chorus (CAJETAN)

		How have her words with soft control
		Resistless calmed the tempest of my soul!
		No guilt of kindred blood be mine!
		Thus with uplifted hands I prey;
		Think, brothers, on the awful day,
		And tremble at the wrath divine!


DON CAESAR (without taking his eyes from the ground)

		Thou art my elder – speak – without dishonor
		I yield to thee.


DON MANUEL

		One gracious word, an instant,
		My tongue is rival in the strife of love!


DON CAESAR

		I am the guiltier – weaker —


DON MANUEL

		Say not so!
		Who doubts thy noble heart, knows thee not well;
		The words were prouder, if thy soul were mean.


DON CAESAR

		It burns indignant at the thought of wrong —
		But thou – methinks – in passion's fiercest mood,
		'Twas aught but scorn that harbored in thy breast.


DON MANUEL

		Oh! had I known thy spirit thus to peace
		Inclined, what thousand griefs had never torn
		A mother's heart!


DON CAESAR

		I find thee just and true:
		Men spoke thee proud of soul.


DON MANUEL

		The curse of greatness!
		Ears ever open to the babbler's tale.


DON CAESAR

		Thou art too proud to meanness – I to falsehood!


DON MANUEL

		We are deceived, betrayed!


DON CAESAR

		The sport of frenzy!


DON MANUEL

		And said my mother true, false is the world?


DON CAESAR

		Believe her, false as air.


DON MANUEL

		Give me thy hand!


DON CAESAR

		And thine be ever next my heart!



[They stand clasping each other's hands, and regard each other in silence.



DON MANUEL

		I gaze
		Upon thy brow, and still behold my mother
		In some dear lineament.


DON CAESAR

		Her image looks
		From thine, and wondrous in my bosom wakes
		Affection's springs.


DON MANUEL

		And is it thou? – that smile
		Benignant on thy face? – thy lips that charm
		With gracious sounds of love and dear forgiveness?


DON CAESAR

		Is this my brother, this the hated foe?
		His mien all gentleness and truth, his voice,
		Whose soft prevailing accents breathe of friendship!



[After a pause.



DON MANUEL

		Shall aught divide us?


DON CAESAR

		We are one forever!



[They rush into each other's arms.



First CHORUS (to the Second)

		Why stand we thus, and coldly gaze,
		While Nature's holy transports burn?
		No dear embrace of happier days
		The pledge – that discord never shall return!
		Brothers are they by kindred band;
		We own the ties of home and native land.



[Both CHORUSES embrace.

A MESSENGER enters.



Second CHORUS to DON CAESAR (BOHEMUND)

		Rejoice, my prince, thy messenger returns
		And mark that beaming smile! the harbinger
		Of happy tidings.


MESSENGER

		Health to me, and health
		To this delivered state! Oh sight of bliss,
		That lights mine eyes with rapture! I behold
		Their hands in sweet accord entwined; the sons
		Of my departed lord, the princely pair
		Dissevered late by conflict's hottest rage.


DON CAESAR

		Yes, from the flames of hate, a new-born Phoenix,
		Our love aspires!


MESSENGER

		I bring another joy;
		My staff is green with flourishing shoots.
		DON CAESAR (taking him aside).
		Oh, tell me
		Thy gladsome message.


MESSENGER

		All is happiness
		On this auspicious day; long sought, the lost one
		Is found.


DON CAESAR

		Discovered! Oh, where is she? Speak!


MESSENGER

		Within Messina's walls she lies concealed.


DON MANUEL (turning to the First SEMI-CHORUS)

		A ruddy glow mounts in my brother's cheek,
		And pleasure dances in his sparkling eye;
		Whate'er the spring, with sympathy of love
		My inmost heart partakes his joy.


DON CAESAR (to the MESSENGER)

		Come, lead me;
		Farewell, Don Manuel; to meet again
		Enfolded in a mother's arms! I fly
		To cares of utmost need.



[He is about to depart.



DON MANUEL

		Make no delay;
		And happiness attend thee!


DON CAESAR (after a pause of reflection, he returns)

		How thy looks
		Awake my soul to transport! Yes, my brother,
		We shall be friends indeed! This hour is bright
		With glad presage of ever-springing love,
		That in the enlivening beam shall flourish fair,
		Sweet recompense of wasted years!


DON MANUEL

		The blossom
		Betokens goodly fruit.


DON CAESAR

		I tear myself
		Reluctant from thy arms, but think not less
		If thus I break this festal hour – my heart
		Thrills with a holy joy.


DON MANUEL (with manifest absence of mind)

		Obey the moment!
		Our lives belong to love.


DON CESAR

		What calls me hence —


DON MANUEL

		Enough! thou leav'st thy heart.


DON CAESAR

		No envious secret
		Shall part us long; soon the last darkening fold
		Shall vanish from my breast.



[Turning to the CHORUS.


		Attend! Forever
		Stilled is our strife; he is my deadliest foe,
		Detested as the gates of hell, who dares
		To blow the fires of discord; none may hope
		To win my love, that with malicious tales
		Encroach upon a brother's ear, and point
		With busy zeal of false, officious friendship.
		The dart of some rash, angry word, escaped
		From passion's heat; it wounds not from the lips,
		But, swallowed by suspicion's greedy ear,
		Like a rank, poisonous weed, embittered creeps,
		And hangs about her with a thousand shoots,
		Perplexing nature's ties.



[He embraces his brother again, and goes away accompanied by the Second CHORUS.



Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Wondering, my prince,
		I gaze, for in thy looks some mystery
		Strange-seeming shows: scarce with abstracted mien
		And cold thou answered'st, when with earnest heart
		Thy brother poured the strain of dear affection.
		As in a dream thou stand'st, and lost in thought,
		As though – dissevered from its earthly frame —
		Thy spirit roved afar. Not thine the breast
		That deaf to nature's voice, ne'er owned the throbs
		Of kindred love: – nay more – like one entranced
		In bliss, thou look'st around, and smiles of rapture
		Play on thy cheek.


DON MANUEL

		How shall my lips declare
		The transports of my swelling heart? My brother
		Revels in glad surprise, and from his breast
		Instinct with strange new-felt emotions, pours
		The tide of joy; but mine – no hate came with me,
		Forgot the very spring of mutual strife!
		High o'er this earthly sphere, on rapture's wings,
		My spirit floats; and in the azure sea,
		Above – beneath – no track of envious night
		Disturbs the deep serene! I view these halls,
		And picture to my thoughts the timid joy
		Of my sweet bride, as through the palace gates,
		In pride of queenly state, I lead her home.
		She loved alone the loving one, the stranger,
		And little deems that on her beauteous brow
		Messina's prince shall 'twine the nuptial wreath.
		How sweet, with unexpected pomp of greatness,
		To glad the darling of my soul! too long
		I brook this dull delay of crowning bliss!
		Her beauty's self, that asks no borrowed charm,
		Shall shine refulgent, like the diamond's blaze
		That wins new lustre from the circling gold!


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Long have I marked thee, prince, with curious eye,
		Foreboding of some mystery deep enshrined
		Within thy laboring breast. This day, impatient,
		Thy lips have burst the seal; and unconstrained
		Confess a lover's joy; – the gladdening chase,
		The Olympian coursers, and the falcon's flight
		Can charm no more: – soon as the sun declines
		Beneath the ruddy west, thou hiest thee quick
		To some sequestered path, of mortal eye
		Unseen – not one of all our faithful train
		Companion of thy solitary way.
		Say, why so long concealed the blissful flame?
		Stranger to fear – ill-brooked thy princely heart
		One thought unuttered.


DON MANUEL

		Ever on the wing
		Is mortal joy; – with silence best we guard
		The fickle good; – but now, so near the goal
		Of all my cherished hopes, I dare to speak.
		To-morrow's sun shall see her mine! no power
		Of hell can make us twain! With timid stealth
		No longer will I creep at dusky eve,
		To taste the golden fruits of Cupid's tree,
		And snatch a fearful, fleeting bliss: to-day
		With bright to-morrow shall be one! So smooth
		As runs the limpid brook, or silvery sand
		That marks the flight of time, our lives shall flow
		In continuity of joy!


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Already
		Our hearts, my prince, with silent vows have blessed
		Thy happy love; and now from every tongue,
		For her – the royal, beauteous bride – should sound
		The glad acclaim; so tell what nook unseen,
		What deep umbrageous solitude, enshrines
		The charmer of thy heart? With magic spells
		Almost I deem she mocks our gaze, for oft
		In eager chase we scour each rustic path
		And forest dell; yet not a trace betrayed
		The lover's haunts, ne'er were the footsteps marked
		Of this mysterious fair.


DON MANUEL

		The spell is broke!
		And all shall be revealed: now list my tale: —
		'Tis five months flown, – my father yet controlled
		The land, and bowed our necks with iron sway;
		Little I knew but the wild joys of arms,
		And mimic warfare of the chase; —
		One day, —
		Long had we tracked the boar with zealous toil
		On yonder woody ridge: – it chanced, pursuing
		A snow-white hind, far from your train I roved
		Amid the forest maze; – the timid beast,
		Along the windings of the narrow vale,
		Through rocky cleft and thick-entangled brake,
		Flew onward, scarce a moment lost, nor distant
		Beyond a javelin's throw; nearer I came not,
		Nor took an aim; when through a garden's gate,
		Sudden she vanished: – from my horse quick springing,
		I followed: – lo! the poor scared creature lay
		Stretched at the feet of a young, beauteous nun,
		That strove with fond caress of her fair hands
		To still its throbbing heart: wondering, I gazed;
		And motionless – my spear, in act to strike,
		High poised – while she, with her large piteous eyes
		For mercy sued – and thus we stood in silence
		Regarding one another.
		How long the pause
		I know not – time itself forgot; – it seemed
		Eternity of bliss: her glance of sweetness
		Flew to my soul; and quick the subtle flame
		Pervaded all my heart: —
		But what I spoke,
		And how this blessed creature answered, none
		May ask; it floats upon my thought, a dream
		Of childhood's happy dawn! Soon as my sense
		Returned, I felt her bosom throb responsive
		To mine, – then fell melodious on my ear
		The sound, as of a convent bell, that called
		To vesper song; and, like some shadowy vision
		That melts in air, she flitted from my sight,
		And was beheld no more.


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Thy story thrills
		My breast with pious awe! Prince, thou hast robbed
		The sanctuary, and for the bride of heaven
		Burned with unholy passion! Oh, remember
		The cloister's sacred vows!


DON MANUEL

		Thenceforth one path
		My footsteps wooed; the fickle train was still
		Of young desires – new felt my being's aim,
		My soul revealed! and as the pilgrim turns
		His wistful gaze, where, from the orient sky,
		With gracious lustre beams Redemption's star; —
		So to that brightest point of heaven, her presence,
		My hopes and longings centred all. No sun
		Sank in the western waves, but smiled farewell
		To two united lovers: – thus in stillness
		Our hearts were twined, – the all-seeing air above us
		Alone the faithful witness of our joys!
		Oh, golden hours! Oh, happy days! nor Heaven
		Indignant viewed our bliss; – no vows enchained
		Her spotless soul; naught but the link which bound it
		Eternally to mine!


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Those hallowed walls,
		Perchance the calm retreat of tender youth,
		No living grave?


DON MANUEL

		In infant innocence
		Consigned a holy pledge, ne'er has she left
		Her cloistered home.


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		But what her royal line?
		The noble only spring from noble stem.


DON MANUEL

		A secret to herself, – she ne'er has learned
		Her name or fatherland.


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		And not a trace
		Guides to her being's undiscovered springs?


DON MANUEL

		An old domestic, the sole messenger
		Sent by her unknown mother, oft bespeaks her
		Of kingly race.


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		And hast thou won naught else
		From her garrulous age?


DON MANUEL

		Too much I feared to peril
		My secret bliss!


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		What were his words? What tidings
		He bore – perchance thou know'st.


DON MANUEL

		Oft he has cheered her
		With promise of a happier time, when all
		Shall be revealed.


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Oh, say – betokens aught
		The time is near?


DON MANUEL

		Not distant far the day
		That to the arms of kindred love once more
		Shall give the long forsaken, orphaned maid —
		Thus with mysterious words the aged man
		Has shadowed oft what most I dread – for awe
		Of change disturbs the soul supremely blest:
		Nay, more; but yesterday his message spoke
		The end of all my joys – this very dawn,
		He told, should smile auspicious on her fate,
		And light to other scenes – no precious hour
		Delayed my quick resolves – by night I bore her
		In secret to Messina.


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Rash the deed
		Of sacrilegious spoil! forgive, my prince,
		The bold rebuke; thus to unthinking youth
		Old age may speak in friendship's warning voice.


DON MANUEL

		Hard by the convent of the Carmelites,
		In a sequestered garden's tranquil bound,
		And safe from curious eyes, I left her, – hastening
		To meet my brother: trembling there she counts
		The slow-paced hours, nor deems how soon triumphant
		In queenly state, high on the throne of fame,
		Messina shall behold my timid bride.
		For next, encompassed by your knightly train,
		With pomp of greatness in the festal show,
		Her lover's form shall meet her wondering gaze!
		Thus will I lead her to my mother; thus —
		While countless thousands on her passage wait
		Amid the loud acclaim – the royal bride
		Shall reach my palace gates!


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		Command us, prince,
		We live but to obey!


DON MANUEL

		I tore myself
		Reluctant from her arms; my every thought
		Shall still be hers: so come along, my friends,
		To where the turbaned merchant spreads his store
		Of fabrics golden wrought with curious art;
		And all the gathered wealth of eastern climes.
		First choose the well-formed sandals – meet to guard
		And grace her delicate feet; then for her robe
		The tissue, pure as Etna's snow that lies
		Nearest the sun-light as the wreathy mist
		At summer dawn – so playful let it float
		About her airy limbs. A girdle next,
		Purple with gold embroidered o'er, to bind
		With witching grace the tunic that confines
		Her bosom's swelling charms: of silk the mantle,
		Gorgeous with like empurpled hues, and fixed
		With clasp of gold – remember, too, the bracelets
		To gird her beauteous arms; nor leave the treasure
		Of ocean's pearly deeps and coral caves.
		About her locks entwine a diadem
		Of purest gems – the ruby's fiery glow
		Commingling with the emerald's green. A veil,
		From her tiara pendent to her feet,
		Like a bright fleecy cloud shall circle round
		Her slender form; and let a myrtle wreath
		Crown the enchanting whole!


Chorus (CAJETAN)

		We haste, my prince.
		Amid the Bazar's glittering rows, to cull
		Each rich adornment.


DON MANUEL

		From my stables lead
		A palfrey, milk-white as the steeds that draw
		The chariot of the sun; purple the housings,
		The bridle sparkling o'er with precious gems,
		For it shall bear my queen! Yourselves be ready
		With trumpet's cheerful clang, in martial train
		To lead your mistress home: let two attend me,
		The rest await my quick return; and each
		Guard well my secret purpose.



[He goes away accompanied by two of the CHORUS.



Chorus (CAJETAN)

		The princely strife is o'er, and say,
		What sport shall wing the slow-paced hours,
		And cheat the tedious day?
		With hope and fear's enlivening zest
		Disturb the slumber of the breast,
		And wake life's dull, untroubled sea
		With freshening airs of gay variety.


One of the Chorus (MANFRED)

		Lovely is peace! A beauteous boy,
		Couched listless by the rivulet's glassy tide,
		'Mid nature's tranquil scene,
		He views the lambs that skip with innocent joy,
		And crop the meadow's flowering pride: —
		Then with his flute's enchanting sound,
		He wakes the mountain echoes round,
		Or slumbers in the sunset's ruddy sheen,
		Lulled by the murmuring melody.
		But war for me! my spirit's treasure,
		Its stern delight, and wilder pleasure:
		I love the peril and the pain,
		And revel in the surge of fortune's boisterous main!


A second (BERENGAR)

		Is there not love, and beauty's smile
		That lures with soft, resistless wile?
		'Tis thrilling hope! 'tis rapturous fear
		'Tis heaven upon this mortal sphere;
		When at her feet we bend the knee,
		And own the glance of kindred ecstasy
		For ever on life's checkered way,
		'Tis love that tints the darkening hues of care
		With soft benignant ray:
		The mirthful daughter of the wave,
		Celestial Venus ever fair,
		Enchants our happy spring with fancy's gleam,
		And wakes the airy forms of passion's golden dream.


First (MANFRED)

		To the wild woods away!
		Quick let us follow in the train
		Of her, chaste huntress of the silver bow;
		And from the rocks amain
		Track through the forest gloom the bounding roe,
		The war-god's merry bride,
		The chase recalls the battle's fray,
		And kindles victory's pride: —
		Up with the streaks of early morn,
		We scour with jocund hearts the misty vale,
		Loud echoing to the cheerful horn
		Over mountain – over dale —
		And every languid sense repair,
		Bathed in the rushing streams of cold, reviving air.


Second (BERENGAR)

		Or shall we trust the ever-moving sea,
		The azure goddess, blithe and free.
		Whose face, the mirror of the cloudless sky,
		Lures to her bosom wooingly?
		Quick let us build on the dancing waves
		A floating castle gay,
		And merrily, merrily, swim away!
		Who ploughs with venturous keel the brine
		Of the ocean crystalline —
		His bride is fortune, the world his own,
		For him a harvest blooms unsown: —
		Here, like the wind that swift careers
		The circling bound of earth and sky,
		Flits ever-changeful destiny!
		Of airy chance 'tis the sportive reign,
		And hope ever broods on the boundless main


A third (CAJETAN)

		Nor on the watery waste alone
		Of the tumultuous, heaving sea; —
		On the firm earth that sleeps secure,
		Based on the pillars of eternity.
		Say, when shall mortal joy endure?
		New bodings in my anxious breast,
		Waked by this sudden friendship, rise;
		Ne'er would I choose my home of rest
		On the stilled lava-stream, that cold
		Beneath the mountain lies
		Not thus was discord's flame controlled —
		Too deep the rooted hate – too long
		They brooded in their sullen hearts
		O'er unforgotten, treasured wrong. In warning visions oft dismayed,
		I read the signs of coming woe;
		And now from this mysterious maid
		My bosom tells the dreaded ills shall flow:
		Unblest, I deem, the bridal chain
		Shall knit their secret loves, accursed
		With holy cloisters' spoil profane.
		No crooked paths to virtue lead;
		Ill fruit has ever sprung from evil seed!


BERENGAR

		And thus to sad unhallowed rites
		Of an ill-omened nuptial tie,
		Too well ye know their father bore
		A bride of mournful destiny,
		Torn from his sire, whose awful curse has sped
		Heaven's vengeance on the impious bed!
		This fierce, unnatural rage atones
		A parent's crime – decreed by fate,
		Their mother's offspring, strife and hate!



[The scene changes to a garden opening on the sea.



BEATRICE (steps forward from an alcove. She walks to and fro with an agitated air, looking round in every direction. Suddenly she stands still and listens)

		No! 'tis not he: 'twas but the playful wind
		Rustling the pine-tops. To his ocean bed
		The sun declines, and with o'erwearied heart
		I count the lagging hours: an icy chill
		Creeps through my frame; the very solitude




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