DON CAESAR.
I have no art to veil
My thoughts with mystery's garb--my spirit free
And open as my brows; which thou wouldst know
Concerned me never. What illumes above
Heaven's flaming orb? Himself! On all the world
He shines, and with his beaming glory tells
From light he sprung:--in her pure eyes I gazed,
I looked into her heart of hearts:--the brightness
Revealed the pearl. Her race--her name--my mother,
Ask not of me!
ISABELLA.
My son, explain thy words,
For, like some voice divine, the sudden charm
Has thralled thy soul: to deeds of rash emprise
Thy nature prompted, not to fantasies
Of boyish love:--tell me, what swayed thy choice?
DON CAESAR.
My choice? my mother! Is it choice when man
Obeys the might of destiny, that brings
The awful hour? I sought no beauteous bride,
No fond delusion stirred my tranquil breast,
Still as the house of death; for there, unsought,
I found the treasure of my soul. Thou know'st
That, heedless ever of the giddy race,
I looked on beauty's charms with cold disdain,
Nor deemed of womankind there lived another
Like thee--whom my idolatrous fancy decked
With heavenly graces:--
'Twas the solemn rite
Of my dead father's obsequies; we stood
Amid the countless throng, with strange attire
Hid from each other's glance; for thus ordained
Thy thoughtful care lest with outbursting rage,
E' en by the holy place unawed, our strife
Should mar the funeral pomp.
With sable gauze
The nave was all o'erhung; the altar round
Stood twenty giant saints, uplifting each
A torch; and in the midst reposed on high
The coffin, with o'erspreading pall, that showed,
In white, redemption's sign;--thereon were laid
The staff of sovereignty, the princely crown,
The golden spurs of knighthood, and the sword,
With diamond-studded belt:--
And all was hushed
In silent prayer, when from the lofty choir,
Unseen, the pealing organ spoke, and loud
From hundred voices burst the choral strain!
Then, 'mid the tide of song, the coffin sank
With the descending floor beneath, forever
Down to the world below:--but, wide outspread
Above the yawning grave, the pall upheld
The gauds of earthly state, nor with the corpse
To darkness fell; yet on the seraph wings
Of harmony, the enfranchised spirit soared
To heaven and mercy's throne:
Thus to thy thought,
My mother, I have waked the scene anew,
And say, if aught of passion in my breast
Profaned the solemn hour; yet then the beams
Of mighty love--so willed my guiding star--
First lit my soul; but how it chanced, myself
I ask in vain.
ISABELLA.
I would hear all; so end
Thy tale.
DON CAESAR.
What brought her to my side, or whence
She came, I know not:--from her presence quick
Some secret all-pervading inward charm
Awoke; 'twas not the magic of a smile,
Nor playful Cupid in her cheeks, nor more,
The form of peerless grace;--'twas beauty's soul,
The speaking virtue, modesty inborn,
That as with magic spells, impalpable
To sense, my being thralled. We breathed together
The air of heaven:--enough!--no utterance asked
Of words, our spiritual converse;--in my heart,
Though strange, yet with familiar ties inwrought
She seemed, and instant spake the thought--'tis she!
Or none that lives!
DON MANUEL (interposing with eagerness).
That is the sacred fire
From heaven! the spark of love--that on the soul
Bursts like the lightning's flash, and mounts in flame,
When kindred bosoms meet! No choice remains--
Who shall resist? What mortal break the band
That heaven has knit? Brother, my blissful fortune
Was echoed in thy tale--well thou hast raised
The veil that shadows yet my secret love.
ISABELLA.
Thus destiny has marked the wayward course
Of my two sons: the mighty torrent sweeps
Down from the precipice; with rage he wears
His proper bed, nor heeds the channel traced
By art and prudent care. So to the powers
That darkly sway the fortunes of our house,
Trembling I yield. One pledge of hope remains;
Great as their birth--their noble souls.
ISABELLA, DON MANUEL, DON CAESAR.
DIEGO is seen at the door.
ISABELLA.
But see,
My faithful messenger returns. Come near me,
Honest Diego. Quick! Where is she? Tell me,
Where is my child? There is no secret here.
Oh, speak! No longer from my eyes conceal her;
Come! we are ready for the height of joy.
[She is about to lead him towards the door.
What means this pause? Thou lingerest--thou art dumb--
Thy looks are terror-fraught--a shudder creeps
Through all my frame--declare thy tidings!--speak!
Where is she? Where is Beatrice?
[She is about to rush from the chamber.
DON MANUEL (to himself abstractedly).
Beatrice!
DIEGO (holding back the PRINCESS).
Be still!
ISABELLA.
Where is she? Anguish tears my breast!
DIEGO.
She comes not.
I bring no daughter to thy arms.
ISABELLA.
Declare
Thy message! Speak! by all the saints!
What has befallen?
DON MANUEL.
Where is my sister? Tell us,
Thou harbinger of ill!
DIEGO.
The maid is stolen
By corsairs! lost! Oh! that I ne'er had seen
This day of woe!
DON MANUEL.
Compose thyself, my mother!
DON CAESAR.
Be calm; list all this tale.
DIEGO.
At thy command
I sought in haste the well-known path that leads
To the old sanctuary:--joy winged my footsteps;
The journey was my last!
DON CAESAR.
Be brief!
DON MANUEL.
Proceed!
DIEGO.
Soon as I trod the convent's court--impatient--
I ask--"Where is thy daughter?" Terror sate
In every eye; and straight, with horror mute,
I heard the worst.
[ISABELLA sinks, pale and trembling, upon a chair;
DON MANUEL is busied about her.
DON CAESAR.
Say'st thou by pirates stolen?
Who saw the band?--what tongue relates the spoil?
DIEGO.
Not far a Moorish galley was descried,
At anchor in the bay----
DON CAESAR.
The refuge oft
From tempests' rage; where is the bark?
DIEGO.
At down,
With favoring breeze she stood to sea.
DON CAESAR.
But never
One prey contents the Moor; say, have they told
Of other spoil?
DIEGO.
A herd that pastured near
Was dragged away.
DON CAESAR.
Yet from the convent's bound
How tear the maid unseen?
DIEGO.
'Tis thought with ladders
They scaled the wall.
DON CAESAR.
Thou knowest what jealous care
Enshrines the bride of Heaven; scarce could their steps
Invade the secret cells.
DIEGO.
Bound by no vows
The maiden roved at will; oft would she seek
Alone the garden's shade. Alas! this day,
Ne'er to return!
DON CAESAR.
Saidst thou--the prize of corsairs?
Perchance, at other bidding, she forsook
The sheltering dome----
ISABELLA (rising suddenly).
'Twas force! 'twas savage spoil!
Ne'er has my child, reckless of honor's ties
With vile seducer fled! My sons! Awake!
I thought to give a sister to your arms;
I ask a daughter from your swords! Arise!
Avenge this wrong! To arms! Launch every ship!
Scour all our coasts! From sea to sea pursue them!
Oh, bring my daughter! haste!
DON CAESAR.
Farewell--I fly
To vengeance!
[He goes away.
[DON MANUEL arouses himself from a state of abstraction,
and turns, with an air of agitation, to DIEGO.
DON MANUEL.
Speak! within the convent's walls
When first unseen----
DIEGO.
This day at dawn.
DON MANUEL (to ISABELLA).
Her name
Thou say'st is Beatrice?
ISABELLA.
No question! Fly!
DON MANUEL.
Yet tell me----
ISABELLA.
Haste! Begone! Why this delay?
Follow thy brother.
DON MANUEL.
I conjure thee--speak----
ISABELLA (dragging him away).
Behold my tears!
DON MANUEL.
Where was she hid? What region
Concealed my sister?
ISABELLA.
Scarce from curious eyes
In the deep bosom of the earth more safe
My child had been!
DIEGO.
Oh! now a sudden horror
Starts in my breast.
DON MANUEL.
What gives thee fear?
DIEGO.
'Twas I
That guiltless caused this woe!
ISABELLA.
Unhappy man!
What hast thou done?
DIEGO.
To spare thy mother's heart
One anxious pang, my mistress, I concealed
What now my lips shall tell: 'twas on the day
When thy dead husband in the silent tomb
Was laid; from every side the unnumbered throng
Pressed eager to the solemn rites; thy daughter--
For e'en amid the cloistered shade was noised
The funeral pomp, urged me, with ceaseless prayers,
To lead her to the festival of Death.
In evil hour I gave consent; and, shrouded
In sable weeds of mourning, she surveyed
Her father's obsequies. With keen reproach
My bosom tells (for through the veil her charms
Resistless shone), 'twas there, perchance, the spoiler
Lurked to betray.
DON MANUEL (to himself).
Thrice happy words! I live!
It was another!
ISABELLA (to DIEGO).
Faithless! Ill betide
Thy treacherous age!
DIEGO.
Oh, never have I strayed
From duty's path! My mistress, in her prayers
I heard the voice of Nature; thus from Heaven
Ordained,--methought, the secret impulse moves
Of kindred blood, to hallow with her tears
A father's grave: the tender office owned
Thy servant's care, and thus with good intent
I wrought but ill.
DON MANUEL (to himself).
Why stand I thus a prey
To torturing fears! No longer will I bear
The dread suspense---I will know all!
DON CAESAR (who returns).
Forgive me,
I follow thee.
DON MANUEL.
Away! Let no man follow.
[Exit.
DON CAESAR (looking after him in surprise).
What means my brother? Speak----
ISABELLA.
In wonder lost
I gaze; some mystery lurks----
DON CAESAR.
Thou mark'st, my mother,
My quick return; with eager zeal I flew
At thy command, nor asked one trace to guide
My footsteps to thy daughter. Whence was torn
Thy treasure? Say, what cloistered solitude
Enshrined the beauteous maid?
ISABELLA.
'Tis consecrate
To St. Cecilia; deep in forest shades,
Beyond the woody ridge that slowly climbs
Toward's Etna's towering throne, it seems a refuge
Of parted souls!
DON CAESAR.
Have courage, trust thy sons;
She shall be thine, though with unwearied quest
O'er every land and sea I track her presence
To earth's extremest bounds: one thought alone
Disturbs,--in stranger hands my timorous bride
Waits my return; to thy protecting arms
I give the pledge of all my joy! She comes;
Soon on her faithful bosom thou shalt rest
In sweet oblivion of thy cares.
[Exit.
ISABELLA.
When will the ancient curse be stilled that weighs
Upon our house? Some mocking demon sports
With every new-formed hope, nor envious leaves
One hour of joy. So near the haven smiled--
So smooth the treacherous main--secure I deemed
My happiness: the storm was lulled; and bright
In evening's lustre gleamed the sunny shore!
Then through the placid air the tempest sweeps,
And bears me to the roaring surge again!
[She goes into the interior of the palace,
followed by DIEGO.
The Scene changes to the Garden.
Both Choruses, afterwards BEATRICE.
The Chorus of DON MANUEL enters in solemn procession,
adorned with garlands, and bearing the bridal ornaments
above mentioned. The Chorus of DON CAESAR opposes their
entrance.
First Chorus (CAJETAN).
Begone!
Second Chorus (BOHEMUND).
Not at thy bidding!
CAJETAN.
Seest thou not
Thy presence irks?
BOHEMUND.
Thou hast it, then, the longer!
CAJETAN.
My place is here! What arm repels me?
BOHEMUND,
Mine!
CAJETAN.
Don Manuel sent me hither.
BOHEMUND.
I obey
My Lord Don Caesar.
CAJETAN.
To the eldest born
Thy master reverence owes.
BOHEMUND.
The world belongs
To him that wins!
CAJETAN.
Unmannered knave, give place!
BOHEMUND.
Our swords be measured first!
CAJETAN.
I find thee ever
A serpent in my path.
BOHEMUND.
Where'er I list
Thus will I meet thee!
CAJETAN.
Say, why cam'st thou hither
To spy?----
BOHEMUND.
And thou to question and command?
CAJETAN.
To parley I disdain!
BOHEMUND.
Too much I grace thee
By words!
CAJETAN.
Thy hot, impetuous youth should bow
To reverend age.
BOHEMUND.
Older thou art--not braver.
BEATRICE (rushing from her place of concealment).
Alas! What mean these warlike men?
CAJETAN (to BOHEMUND).
I heed not
Thy threats and lofty mien.
BOHEMUND.
I serve a master
Better than thine.
BEATRICE.
Alas! Should he appear!
CAJETAN.
Thou liest! Don Manuel thousandfold excels.
BOHEMUND.
In every strife the wreath of victory decks
Don Caesar's brows!
BEATRICE.
Now he will come! Already
The hour is past!
CAJETAN.
'Tis peace, or thou shouldst know
My vengeance!
BOHEMUND.
Fear, not peace, thy arm refrains.
BEATRICE.
Oh! Were he thousand miles remote!
CAJETAN.
Thy looks
But move my scorn; the compact I obey.
BOHEMUND.
The coward's ready shield!
CAJETAN.
Come on! I follow.
BOHEMUND.
To arms!
BEATRICE (in the greatest agitation).
Their falchions gleam--the strife begins!
Ye heavenly powers, his steps refrain! Some snare
Throw round his feet, that in this hour of dread
He come not: all ye angels, late implored
To give him to my arms, reverse my prayers;
Far, far from hence convey the loved one!
[She runs into the alcove. At the moment when the two
Choruses are about to engage, DON MANUEL appears.
DON MANUEL, the Chorus.
DON MANUEL.
What do I see!
First Chorus to the Second (CAJETAN, BERENGAR, MANFRED).
Come on! Come on!
Second Chorus (BOHEMUND, ROGER, HIPPOLYTE).
Down with them!
DON MANUEL (stepping between them with drawn sword).
Hold!
CAJETAN.
'Tis the prince!
BOHEMUND.
Be still!
DON MANUEL.
I stretch him dead
Upon this verdant turf that with one glance
Of scorn prolongs the strife, or threats his foe!
Why rage ye thus? What maddening fiend impels
To blow the flames of ancient hate anew,
Forever reconciled? Say, who began
The conflict? Speak----
First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR).
My prince, we stood----
Second Chorus (ROGER, BOHEMUND) interrupting them.
They came
DON MANUEL (to the First Chorus).
Speak thou!
First Chorus (CAJETAN).
With wreaths adorned, in festal train,
We bore the bridal gifts; no thought of ill
Disturbed our peaceful way; composed forever
With holy pledge of love we deemed your strife,
And trusting came; when here in rude array
Of arms encamped they stood, and loud defied us!
DON MANUEL.
Slave! Is no refuge safe? Shall discord thus
Profane the bower of virgin innocence,
The home of sanctity and peace?
[To the Second Chorus.
Retire--
Your warlike presence ill beseems; away!
I would be private.
[They hesitate.
In your master's name
I give command; our souls are one, our lips
Declare each other's thoughts; begone!
[To the First Chorus.
Remain!
And guard the entrance.
BOHEMUND.
So! What next? Our masters
Are reconciled; that's plain; and less he wins
Of thanks than peril, that with busy zeal
In princely quarrel stirs; for when of strife
His mightiness aweary feels, of guilt
He throws the red-dyed mantle unconcerned
On his poor follower's luckless head, and stands
Arrayed in virtue's robes! So let them end
E'en as they will their brawls, I hold it best
That we obey.
[Exit Second Chorus. The first withdraws to the
back of the stage; at the same moment BEATRICE rushes
forward, and throws herself into DON MANUEL'S arms.
BEATRICE.
'Tis thou! Ah! cruel one,
Again I see thee--clasp thee--long appalled,
To thousand ills a prey, trembling I languish
For thy return: no more--in thy loved arms
I am at peace, nor think of dangers past,
Thy breast my shield from every threatening harm.
Quick! Let us fly! they see us not!--away!
Nor lose the moment.
Ha! Thy looks affright me!
Thy sullen, cold reserve! Thou tear'st thyself
Impatient from my circling arms, I know thee
No more! Is this Don Manuel? My beloved?
My husband?
DON MANUEL.
Beatrice!
BEATRICE.
No words! The moment
Is precious! Haste.
DON MANUEL.
Yet tell me----
BEATRICE.
Quick! Away!
Ere those fierce men return.
DON MANUEL.
Be calm, for naught
Shall trouble thee of ill.
BEATRICE.
Oh, fly! alas,
Thou know'st them not!
DON MANUEL.
Protected by this arm
Canst thou fear aught?
BEATRICE.
Oh, trust me; mighty men
Are here!
DON MANUEL.
Beloved! mightier none than I!
BEATRICE.
And wouldst thou brave this warlike host alone?
DON MANUEL.
Alone! the men thou fear'st----
BEATRICE.
Thou know'st them not,
Nor whom they serve.
DON MANUEL.
Myself! I am their lord!
BEATRICE.
Thou art--a shudder creeps through all my frame!
DON MANUEL.
Far other than I seemed; learn at last
To know me, Beatrice. Not the poor knight
Am I, the stranger and unknown, that loving
Taught thee to love; but what I am--my race--
My power----
BEATRICE.
And art thou not Don Manuel? Speak--
Who art thou?
DON MANUEL.
Chief of all that bear the name,
I am Don Manuel, Prince of Messina!
BEATRICE.
Art thou Don Manuel, Don Caesar's brother?
DON MANUEL.
Don Caesar is my brother.
BEATRICE.
Is thy brother!
DON MANUEL.
What means this terror? Know'st thou, then, Don Caesar?
None other of my race?
BEATRICE.
Art thou Don Manuel,
That with thy brother liv'st in bitter strife
Of long inveterate hate?
DON MANUEL.
This very sun
Smiled on our glad accord! Yes, we are brothers!
Brothers in heart!
BEATRICE.
And reconciled? This day?
DON MANUEL.
What stirs this wild disorder? Hast thou known
Aught but our name? Say, hast thou told me all?
Is there no secret? Hast thou naught concealed?
Nothing disguised?
BEATRICE.
Thy words are dark; explain,
What shall I tell thee?
DON MANUEL.
Of thy mother naught
Hast thou e'er told; who is she? If in words
I paint her, bring her to thy sight----
BEATRICE.
Thou know'st her!
And thou wert silent!
DON MANUEL.
If I know thy mother,
Horrors betide us both!
BEATRICE.
Oh, she is gracious
As the sun's orient beam! Yes! I behold her;
Fond memory wakes;--and from my bosom's depths
Her godlike presence rises to my view!
I see around her snowy neck descend
The tresses of her raven hair, that shade
The form of sculptured loveliness; I see
The pale, high-thoughted brow; the darkening glance
Of her large lustrous orbs; I hear the tones
Of soul-fraught sweetness!
DON MANUEL.
'Tis herself!
BEATRICE.
This day,
Perchance had give me to her arms, and knit
Our souls in everlasting love;--such bliss
I have renounced, yes! I have lost a mother
For thee!
DON MANUEL.
Console thyself, Messina's princess
Henceforth shall call thee daughter; to her feet
I lead thee; come--she waits. What hast thou said?
BEATRICE.
Thy mother and Don Caesar's? Never! never!
DON MANUEL.
Thou shudderest! Whence this horror? Hast thou known
My mother? Speak----
BEATRICE.
O grief! O dire misfortune!
Alas! that e'er I live to see this day!
DON MANUEL.
What troubles thee? Thou know'st me, thou hast found,
In the poor stranger knight, Messina's prince!
BEATRICE.
Give me the dear unknown again! With him
On earth's remotest wilds I could be blest!
DON CAESAR (behind the scene).
Away! What rabble throng is here?
BEATRICE.
That voice!
Oh heavens! Where shall I fly!
DON MANUEL.
Know'st thou that voice?
No! thou hast never heard it; to thine ear
'Tis strange----
BEATRICE.
Oh, come--delay not----
DON MANUEL.
Wherefore I fly?
It is my brother's voice! He seeks me--how
He tracked my steps----
BEATRICE.
By all the holy saints!
Brave not his wrath! oh quit this place--avoid him--
Meet not thy brother here!
DON MANUEL.
My soul! thy fears
Confound; thou hear'st me not; our strife is o'er.
Yes! we are reconciled.
BEATRICE.
Protect me, heaven,
In this dread hour!
DON MANUEL.
A sudden dire presage
Starts in my breast--I shudder at the thought:
If it be true! Oh, horror! Could she know
That voice! Wert thou--my tongue denies to utter
The words of fearful import--Beatrice!
Say, wert thou present at the funeral rites
Of my dead sire?
BEATRICE.
Alas!
DON MANUEL.
Thou wert!
BEATRICE.
Forgive me!
DON MANUEL.
Unhappy woman!
BEATRICE.
I was present!
DON MANUEL.
Horror!
BEATRICE.
Some mighty impulse urged me to the scene--
Oh, be not angry--to thyself I owned
The ardent fond desire; with darkening brow
Thou listened'st to my prayer, and I was silent,
But what misguiding inauspicious star
Allured, I know not; from my inmost soul
The wish, the dear emotion spoke; and vain
Aught else:--Diego gave consent--oh, pardon me!
I disobeyed thee.
[She advances towards him imploringly; at the same moment
DON CAESAR enters, accompanied by the whole Chorus.
BOTH BROTHERS, BOTH CHORUSES, BEATRICE.
Second Chorus (BOHEMUND) to DON CAESAR.
Thou heliev'st us not--
Believe thine eyes!
DON CAESAR (rushes forward furiously, and at the sight of his brother
starts back with horror).
Some hell-born magic cheats
My senses; in her arms! Envenomed snake!
Is this thy love? For this thy treacherous heart
Could lure with guise of friendship! Oh, from heaven
Breathed my immortal hate! Down, down to hell,
Thou soul of falsehood!
[He stabs him, DON MANUEL falls.
DON MANUEL.
Beatrice!--my brother!
I die!
[Dies. BEATRICE sinks lifeless at his side.
First Chorus (CAJETAN).
Help! Help! To arms! Avenge with blood
The bloody deed!
Second Chorus (BOHEMUND).
The fortune of the day
Is ours! The strife forever stilled:--Messina
Obeys one lord.
First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR, MANFRED).
Revenge! The murderer
Shall die! Quick, offer to your master's shade
Appeasing sacrifice!
Second Chorus (BOHEMUND, ROGER, HIPPOLYTE).
My prince! fear nothing,
Thy friends are true.
DON CAESAR (steps between them, looking around).
Be still! The foe is slain
That practised on my trusting, honest heart
With snares of brother's love. Oh, direful shows
The deed of death! But righteous heaven hath judged.
First Chorus (CAJETAN).
Alas to thee, Messina! Woe forever!
Sad city! From thy blood-stained walls this deed
Of nameless horror taints the skies; ill fare
Thy mothers and thy children, youth and age,
And offspring yet, unborn!
DON CAESAR.
Too late your grief--
Here give your help.
[Pointing to BEATRICE.
Call her to life, and quick
Depart this scene of terror and of death.
I must away and seek my sister:--Hence!
Conduct her to my mother--
And tell her that her son, Don Caesar, sends her!
[Exit.
[The senseless BEATRICE is placed on a litter and
carried away by the Second Chorus. The First Chorus
remains with the body, round which the boys who bear
the bridal presents range themselves in a semicircle.
Chorus (CAJETAN).
List, how with dreaded mystery
Was signed to my prophetic soul,
Of kindred blood the dire decree:--
Hither with noiseless, giant stride
I saw the hideous fiend of terror glide!
'Tis past! I strive not to control
My shuddering awe--so swift of ill
The Fates the warning sign fulfil.
Lo! to my sense dismayed,
Sudden the deed of death has shown
Whate'er my boding fears portrayed.
The visioned thought was pain;
The present horror curdles every vein
One of the Chorus (MANFRED).
Sound, sound the plaint of woe!
Beautiful youth!
Outstretched and pale he lies,
Untimely cropped in early bloom;
The heavy night of death has sealed his eyes;--
In this glad hour of nuptial joy,
Snatched by relentless doom,
He sleeps--while echoing to the sky,
Of sorrow bursts the loud, despairing cry!
A second (CAJETAN).
We come, we come, in festal pride,
To greet the beauteous bride;
Behold! the nuptial gifts, the rich attire
The banquet waits, the guests are there;
They bid thee to the solemn rite
Of hymen quick repair.
Thou hear'st them not--the sportive lyre,
The frolic dance, shall ne'er invite;
Nor wake thee from thy lowly bed,
For deep the slumber of the dead!
The whole Chorus.
No more the echoing horn shall cheer
Nor bride with tones of sweetness charm his ear.
On the cold earth he lies,
In death's eternal slumber closed his eyes.
A third (CAJETAN).
What are the hopes, and fond desires
Of mortals' transitory race?
This day, with harmony of voice and soul,
Ye woke the long-extinguished fires
Of brothers' love--yon flaming orb
Lit with his earliest beams your dear embrace
At eve, upon the gory sand
Thou liest--a reeking corpse!
Stretched by a brother's murderous hand.
Vain projects, treacherous hopes,
Child of the fleeting hour are thine;
Fond man! thou rear'st on dust each bold design,
Chorus (BERENGAR).
To thy mother I will bear
The burden of unutterable woe!
Quick shall yon cypress, blooming fair,
Bend to the axe's murderous blow
Then twine the mournful bier!
For ne'er with verdant life the tree shall smile
That grew on death's devoted soil;
Ne'er in the breeze the branches play,
Nor shade the wanderer in the noontide ray;
'Twas marked to bear the fruits of doom,
Cursed to the service of the tomb.
First (CAJETAN).
Woe to the murderer! Woe
That sped exulting in his pride,
Behold! the parched earth drinks the crimson tide.
Down, down it flows, unceasingly,
To the dim caverned halls below,
Where throned in kindred gloom the sister train,
Of Themis progeny severe,
Brood in their songless, silent reign!
Stern minister of wrath's decree,
They catch in swarthy cups thy streaming gore,
And pledge with horrid rites for vengeance evermore.
Second (BERENGAR).
Though swift of deed the traces fade
From earth, before the enlivening ray;
As o'er the brow the transient shade
Of thought, the hues of fancy flit away:--
Yet in the mystic womb unseen,
Of the dark ruling hours that sway
Our mortal lot, whate'er has been,
With new creative germ defies decay.
The blooming field is time
For nature's ever-teeming shoot,
And all is seed, and all is fruit.
[The Chorus goes away, bearing the corpse of DON MANUEL on a bier.
SCENE--The hall of pillars. It is night.
The stage is lighted from above by a single large lamp.
DONNA ISABELLA and DIEGO advance to the front.
ISABELLA.
As yet no joyful tidings, not a trace
Found of the lost one!
DIEGO.
Nothing have we heard,
My mistress; yet o'er every track, unwearied,
Thy sons pursue. Ere long the rescued maid
Shall smile at dangers past.
ISABELLA.
Alas! Diego,
My heart is sad; 'twas I that caused this woe!
DIEGO.
Vex not thy anxious bosom; naught escaped
Thy thoughtful care.
ISABELLA.
Oh! had I earlier shown
The hidden treasure!
DIEGO.
Prudent were thy counsels,
Wisely thou left'st her in retirement's shade;
So, trust in heaven.
ISABELLA.
Alas! no joy is perfect
Without this chance of ill my bliss were pure.
DIEGO.
Thy happiness is but delayed; enjoy
The concord of thy sons.
ISABELLA.
The sight was rapture
Supreme, when, locked in one another's arms,
They glowed with brothers' love.
DIEGO.
And in the heart
It burns; for ne'er their princely souls have stooped
To mean disguise.
ISABELLA.
Now, too, their bosoms wake
To gentler thoughts, and own their softening sway
Of love. No more their hot, impetuous youth
Revels in liberty untamed, and spurns
Restraint of law, attempered passion's self,
With modest, chaste reserve.
To thee, Diego,
I will unfold my secret heart; this hour
Of feeling's opening bloom, expected long,
Wakes boding fears: thou know'st to sudden rage
Love stirs tumultuous breasts; and if this flame
With jealousy should rouse the slumbering fires
Of ancient hate--I shudder at the thought!
If these discordant souls perchance have thrilled
In fatal unison! Enough; the clouds
That black with thundering menace o'er me hung
Are past; some angel sped them tranquil by,
And my enfranchised spirit breathes again.
DIEGO.
Rejoice, my mistress; for thy gentle sense
And soft, prevailing art more weal have wrought
Than all thy husband's power. Be praise to thee
And thy auspicious star!
ISABELLA.
Yes, fortune smiled;
Nor light the task, so long with apt disguise
To veil the cherished secret of my heart,
And cheat my ever-jealous lord: more hard
To stifle mighty nature's pleading voice,
That, like a prisoned fire, forever strove
To rend its confines.
DIEGO.
All shall yet be well;
Fortune, propitious to our hopes, gave pledge
Of bliss that time will show.
ISABELLA.
I praise not yet
My natal star, while darkening o'er my fate
This mystery hangs: too well the dire mischance
Tells of the fiend whose never-slumbering rage
Pursues our house. Now list what I have done,
And praise or blame me as thou wilt; from thee
My bosom guards no secret: ill I brook
This dull repose, while swift o'er land and sea
My sons unwearied, track their sister's flight,
Yes, I have sought; heaven counsels oft, when vain
All mortal aid.
DIEGO.
What I may know, my mistress,
Declare.
ISABELLA.
On Etna's solitary height
A reverend hermit dwells,--benamed of old
The mountain seer,--who to the realms of light
More near abiding than the toilsome race
Of mortals here below, with purer air
Has cleansed each earthly, grosser sense away;
And from the lofty peak of gathered years,
As from his mountain home, with downward glance
Surveys the crooked paths of worldly strife.
To him are known the fortunes of our house;
Oft has the holy sage besought response
From heaven, and many a curse with earnest prayer
Averted: thither at my bidding flew,
On wings of youthful haste, a messenger,
To ask some tidings of my child: each hour
I wait his homeward footsteps.
DIEGO.
If mine eyes
Deceive me not, he comes; and well his speed
Has earned thy praise.
MESSENGER, ISABELLA, DIEGO.
ISABELLA (to MESSENGER).
Now speak, and nothing hide
Of weal or woe; be truth upon thy lips!
What tidings bear'st thou from the mountain seer?
MESSENGER.
His answer: "Quick! retrace thy steps; the lost one
Is found."
ISABELLA.
Auspicious tongue! Celestial sounds
Of peace and joy! thus ever to my vows.
Thrice honored sage, thy kindly message spoke!
But say, which heaven-directed brother traced
My daughter?
MESSENGER.
'Twas thy eldest born that found
The deep-secluded maid.
ISABELLA.
Is it Don Manuel
That gives her to my arms? Oh, he was ever
The child of blessing! Tell me, hast thou borne
My offering to the aged man? the tapers
To burn before his saint? for gifts, the prize
Of worldly hearts, the man of God disdains.
MESSENGER.
He took the torches from my hands in silence
And stepping to the altar--where the lamp
Burned to his saint--illumed them at his fire,
And instant set in flames the hermit cell,
Where he has honored God these ninety years!
ISABELLA.
What hast thou said? What horrors fright my soul?
MESSENGER.
And three times shrieking "Woe!" with downward course,
He fled; but silent with uplifted arm
Beckoned me not to follow, nor regard him
So hither I have hastened, terror-sped.
ISABELLA.
Oh, I am tossed amid the surge again
Of doubt and anxious fears; thy tale appals
With ominous sounds of ill. My daughter found--
Thou sayest; and by my eldest born, Don Manuel?
The tidings ne'er shall bless, that heralded
This deed of woe!
MESSENGER.
My mistress! look around
Behold the hermit's message to thine eyes
Fulfilled. Some charm deludes my sense, or hither
Thy daughter comes, girt by the warlike train
Of thy two sons!
[BEATRICE is carried in by the Second Chorus on a litter,
and placed in the front of the stage. She is still without
perception, and motionless.
ISABELLA, DIEGO, MESSENGER, BEATRICE.
Chorus (BOHEMUND, ROGER, HIPPOLYTE, and the other nine followers
of DON CAESAR.)
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
Here at thy feet we lay
The maid, obedient to our lord's command:
'Twas thus he spoke--"Conduct her to my mother;
And tell her that her son, Don Caesar, sends her!"
ISABELLA (is advancing towards her with outstretched arms, and starts
back in horror).
Heavens! she is motionless and pale!
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
She lives,
She will awake, but give her time to rouse
From the dread shock that holds each sense enthralled.
ISABELLA.
My daughter! Child of all my cares and pains!
And is it thus I see thee once again?
Thus thou returnest to thy father's halls!
Oh, let my breath relume thy vital spark;
Yes! I will strain thee to a mother's arms
And hold thee fast--till from the frost of death
Released thy life-warm current throbs again.
[To the Chorus.
Where hast thou found her? Speak! What dire mischance
Has caused this sight of woe?
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
My lips are dumb!
Ask not of me: thy son will tell thee all--
Don Caesar--for 'tis he that sends her.
ISABELLA
'Tell me
Would'st thou not say Don Manuel?
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
'Tis Don Caesar
That sends her to thee.
ISABELLA (to the MESSENGER).
How declared the Seer?
Speak! Was it not Don Manuel?
MESSENGER.
'Twas he!
Thy elder born.
ISABELLA.
Be blessings on his head
Which e'er it be; to him I owe a daughter,
Alas! that in this blissful hour, so long
Expected, long implored, some envious fiend
Should mar my joy! Oh, I must stem the tide
Of nature's transport! In her childhood's home
I see my daughter; me she knows not--heeds not--
Nor answers to a mother's voice of love
Ope, ye dear eyelids--hands be warm--and heave
Thou lifeless bosom with responsive throbs
To mine! 'Tis she! Diego, look! 'tis Beatrice!
The long-concealed--the lost--the rescued one!
Before the world I claim her for my own!
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
New signs of terror to my boding soul
Are pictured;--in amazement lost I stand!
What light shall pierce this gloom of mystery?
ISABELLA (to the Chorus, who exhibit marks of confusion and
embarrassment).
Oh, ye hard hearts! Ye rude unpitying men!
A mother's transport from your breast of steel
Rebounds, as from the rocks the heaving surge!
I look around your train, nor mark one glance
Of soft regard. Where are my sons? Oh, tell me
Why come they not, and from their beaming eyes
Speak comfort to my soul? For here environed
I stand amid the desert's raging brood,
Or monsters of the deep!
DIEGO.
She opes her eyes!
She moves! She lives!
ISABELLA.
She lives! On me be thrown
Her earliest glance!
DIEGO.
See! They are closed again--
She shudders!
ISABELLA (to the Chorus).
Quick! Retire--your aspect frights her.
[Chorus steps back.
RORER.
Well pleased I shun her sight.
DIEGO.
With outstretched eyes,
And wonderstruck, she seems to measure thee.
BEATRICE.
Not strange those lineaments--where am I?
ISABELLA.
Slowly
Her sense returns.
DIEGO.
Behold! upon her knees
She sinks.
BEATRICE.
Oh, angel visage of my mother!
ISABELLA.
Child of my heart!
BEATRICE.
See! kneeling at thy feet
The guilty one!
ISABELLA.
I hold thee in my arms!
Enough--forgotten all!
DIEGO.
Look in my face,
Canst thou remember me?
BEATRICE.
The reverend brows
Of honest old Diego!
ISABELLA.
Faithful guardian
Of thy young years.
BEATRICE.
And am I once again
With kindred?
ISABELLA.
Naught but death shall part us more!
BEATRICE.
Will thou ne'er send me to the stranger?
ISABELLA.
Never!
Fate is appeased.
BEATRICE.
And am I next thy heart?
And was it all a dream--a hideous dream?
My mother! at my feet he fell! I know not
What brought me hither--yet 'tis well. Oh, bliss!
That I am safe in thy protecting arms;
They would have ta'en me to the princess, mother--
Sooner to death!
ISABELLA.
My daughter, calm thy fears;
Messina's princess----
BEATRICE.
Name her not again!
At that ill-omened sound the chill of death
Creeps through my trembling frame.
ISABELLA.
My child! but hear me----
BEATRICE.
She has two sons by mortal hate dissevered,
Don Manuel and Don Caesar----
ISABELLA.
'Tis myself!
Behold thy mother!
BEATRICE.
Have I heard thee? Speak!
ISABELLA.
I am thy mother, and Messina's princess!
BEATRICE.
Art thou Don Manuel's and Don Caesar's mother?
ISABELLA.
And thine! They are thy brethren whom thou namest.
BEATRICE.
Oh, gleam of horrid light!
ISABELLA.
What troubles thee?
Say, whence this strange emotion?
BEATRICE.
Yes! 'twas they!
Now I remember all; no dream deceived me,
They met--'tis fearful truth! Unhappy men!
Where have ye hid him?
[She rushes towards the Chorus; they turn away from her.
A funeral march is heard in the distance.
CHORUS.
Horror! Horror!
ISABELLA.
Hid!
Speak--who is hid? and what is true? Ye stand
In silent dull amaze--as though ye fathomed
Her words of mystery! In your faltering tones--
Your brows--I read of horrors yet unknown,
That would refrain my tongue! What is it? Tell me!
I will know all! Why fix ye on the door
That awe-struck gaze? What mournful music sounds?
[The march is heard nearer.
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
It comes! it comes! and all shall be declared
With terrible voice. My mistress! steel thy heart,
Be firm, and bear with courage what awaits thee--
For more than women's soul thy destined griefs
Demand.
ISABELLA.
What comes? and what awaits me? Hark
With fearful tones the death-wail smites mine ear--
It echoes through the house! Where are my sons?
[The first Semi-chorus brings in the body of DON MANUEL
on a bier, which is placed at the side of the stage.
A black pall is spread over it.
ISABELLA, BEATRICE, DIEGO.
Both Choruses.
First Chorus (CAJETAN).
With sorrow in his train,
From street to street the King of Terror glides;
With stealthy foot, and slow,
He creeps where'er the fleeting race
Of man abides
In turn at every gate
Is heard the dreaded knock of fate,
The message of unutterable woe!
BERENGAR.
When, in the sere
And autumn leaves decayed,
The mournful forest tells how quickly fade
The glories of the year!
When in the silent tomb oppressed,
Frail man, with weight of days,
Sinks to his tranquil rest;
Contented nature but obeys
Her everlasting law,--
The general doom awakes no shuddering awe!
But, mortals, oh! prepare
For mightier ills; with ruthless hand
Fell murder cuts the holy band--
The kindred tie: insatiate death,
With unrelenting rage,
Bears to his bark the flower of blooming age!
CAJETAN.
When clouds athwart the lowering sky
Are driven--when bursts with hollow moan
The thunder's peal--our trembling bosoms own
The might of awful destiny!
Yet oft the lightning's glare
Darts sudden through the cloudless air:--
Then in thy short delusive day
Of bliss, oh! dread the treacherous snare;
Nor prize the fleeting goods in vain,
The flowers that bloom but to decay!
Nor wealth, nor joy, nor aught but pain,
Was e'er to mortal's lot secure:--
Our first best lesson--to endure!
ISABELLA.
What shall I hear? What horrors lurk beneath
This funeral pall?
[She steps towards the bier, but suddenly pauses,
and stands irresolute.
Some strange, mysterious dread
Enthrals my sense. I would approach, and sudden
The ice-cold grasp of terror holds me back!
[To BEATRICE, who has thrown herself between her and the bier.
Whate'er it be, I will unveil----
[On raising the pall she discovers the body of DON MANUEL.
Eternal Powers! it is my son!
[She stands in mute horror. BEATRICE sinks to the ground
with a shriek of anguish near the bier.
CHORUS.
Unhappy mother! 'tis thy son. Thy lips
Have uttered what my faltering tongue denied.
ISABELLA.
My soul! My Manuel! Oh, eternal grief!
And is it thus I see thee? Thus thy life
Has bought thy sister from the spoiler's rage?
Where was thy brother? Could no arm be found
To shield thee? Oh, be cursed the hand that dug
These gory wounds! A curse on her that bore
The murderer of my son! Ten thousand curses
On all their race!
CHORUS.
Woe! Woe!
ISABELLA.
And is it thus
Ye keep your word, ye gods? Is this your truth?
Alas for him that trusts with honest heart
Your soothing wiles! Why have I hoped and trembled?
And this the issue of my prayers! Attend,
Ye terror-stricken witnesses, that feed
Your gaze upon my anguish; learn to know
How warning visions cheat, and boding seers
But mock our credulous hopes; let none believe
The voice of heaven!
When in my teeming womb
This daughter lay, her father, in a dream
Saw from his nuptial couch two laurels grow,
And in the midst a lily all in flames,
That, catching swift the boughs and knotted stems
Burst forth with crackling rage, and o'er the house
Spread in one mighty sea of fire. Perplexed
By this terrific dream my husband sought
The counsels of the mystic art, and thus
Pronounced the sage: "If I a daughter bore,
The murderess of his sons, the destined spring
Of ruin to our house, the baleful child
Should see the light."
Chorus (CAJETAN and BOHEMUND).
What hast thou said, my mistress?
Woe! Woe!
ISABELLA.
For this her ruthless father spoke
The dire behest of death. I rescued her,
The innocent, the doomed one; from my arms
The babe was torn; to stay the curse of heaven,
And save my sons, the mother gave her child;
And now by robber hands her brother falls;
My child is guiltless. Oh, she slew him not!
CHORUS.
Woe! Woe!
ISABELLA.
No trust the fabling readers of the stars
Have e'er deserved. Hear how another spoke
With comfort to my soul, and him I deemed
Inspired to voice the secrets of the skies!
"My daughter should unite in love the hearts
Of my dissevered sons;" and thus their tales
Of curse and blessing on her head proclaim
Each other's falsehood. No, she ne'er has brought
A curse, the innocent; nor time was given
The blessed promise to fulfil; their tongues
Were false alike; their boasted art is vain;
With trick of words they cheat our credulous ears,
Or are themselves deceived! Naught ye may know
Of dark futurity, the sable streams
Of hell the fountain of your hidden lore,
Or yon bright spring of everlasting light!
First Chorus (CAJETAN).
Woe! Woe! thy tongue refrain!
Oh, pause, nor thus with impious rage
The might of heaven profane;
The holy oracles are wise--
Expect with awe thy coming destinies!
ISABELLA.
My tongue shall speak as prompts my swelling heart;
My griefs shall cry to heaven. Why do we lift
Our suppliant hands, and at the sacred shrines
Kneel to adore? Good, easy dupes! What win we
From faith and pious awe? to touch with prayers
The tenants of yon azure realms on high,
Were hard as with an arrow's point to pierce
The silvery moon. Hid is the womb of time,
Impregnable to mortal glance, and deaf
The adamantine walls of heaven rebound
The voice of anguish:--Oh, 'tis one, whate'er
The flight of birds--the aspect of the stars!
The book of nature is a maze--a dream
The sage's art--and every sign a falsehood!
Second Chorus (BOHEMUND).
Woe! Woe! Ill-fated woman, stay
Thy maddening blasphemies;
Thou but disown'st, with purblind eyes,
The flaming orb of day!
Confess the gods,--they dwell on high--
They circle thee with awful majesty!
All the Knights.
Confess the gods--they dwell on high--
They circle thee with awful majesty!
BEATRICE.
Why hast thou saved thy daughter, and defied
The curse of heaven, that marked me in thy womb
The child of woe? Short-sighted mother!--vain
Thy little arts to cheat the doom declared
By the all-wise interpreters, that knit
The far and near; and, with prophetic ken,
See the late harvest spring in times unborn.
Oh, thou hast brought destruction on thy race,
Withholding from the avenging gods their prey;
Threefold, with new embittered rage, they ask
The direful penalty; no thanks thy boon
Of life deserves--the fatal gift was sorrow!
Second Chorus (BERENGAR) looking towards the door
with signs of agitation.
Hark to the sound of dread!
The rattling, brazen din I hear!
Of hell-born snakes the hissing tones are near!
Yes--'tis the furies' tread!
CAJETAN.
In crumbling ruin wide,
Fall, fall, thou roof, and sink, thou trembling floor
That bear'st the dread, unearthly stride!
Ye sable damps arise!
Mount from the abyss in smoky spray,
And pall the brightness of the day!
Vanish, ye guardian powers!
They come! The avenging deities
DON CAESAR, ISABELLA, BEATRICE. The Chorus.
[On the entrance of DON CAESAR the Chorus station themselves
before him imploringly. He remains standing alone in the
centre of the stage.
BEATRICE.
Alas! 'tis he----
ISABELLA (stepping to meet him).
My Caesar! Oh, my son!
And is it thus I meet the? Look! Behold!
The crime of hand accursed!
[She leads him to the corpse.
First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR).
Break forth once more
Ye wounds! Flow, flow, in swarthy flood,
Thou streaming gore!
ISABELLA.
Shuddering with earnest gaze, and motionless,
Thou stand'st.--yes! there my hopes repose, and all
That earth has of thy brother; in the bud
Nipped is your concord's tender flower, nor ever
With beauteous fruit shall glad a mother's eyes,
DON CAESAR.
Be comforted; thy sons, with honest heart,
To peace aspired, but heaven's decree was blood!
ISABELLA.
I know thou lovedst him well; I saw between ye,
With joy, the bands old Nature sweetly twined;
Thou wouldst have borne him in thy heart of hearts
With rich atonement of long wasted years!
But see--fell murder thwarts thy dear design,
And naught remains but vengeance!
DON CAESAR.
Come, my mother,
This is no place for thee. Oh, haste and leave
This sight of woe.
[He endeavors to drag her away.
ISABELLA (throwing herself into his arms).
Thou livest! I have a son!
BEATRICE.
Alas! my mother!
DON CAESAR.
On this faithful bosom
Weep out thy pains; nor lost thy son,--his love
Shall dwell immortal in thy Caesar's breast.
First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR, MANFRED).
Break forth, ye wounds!
Dumb witness! the truth proclaim;
Flow fast, thou gory stream!
ISABELLA (clasping the hands of DON CAESAR and BEATRICE).
My children!
DON CAESAR.
Oh, 'tis ecstasy! my mother,
To see her in thy arms! henceforth in love
A daughter--sister----
ISABELLA (interrupting him).
Thou hast kept thy word.
My son; to thee I owe the rescued one;
Yes, thou hast sent her----
DON CAESAR (in astonishment).
Whom, my mother, sayst thou,
That I have sent?
ISABELLA.
She stands before thine eyes--
Thy sister.
DON CAESAR.
She! My sister?
ISABELLA.
Ay, What other?
DON CAESAR.
My sister!
ISABELLA.
Thou hast sent her to me!
DON CAESAR.
Horror!
His sister, too!
CHORUS.
Woe! woe!
BEATRICE.
Alas! my mother!
ISABELLA.
Speak! I am all amaze!
DON CASAR.
Be cursed the day
When I was born!
ISABELLA.
Eternal powers!
DON CAESAR.
Accursed
The womb that bore me; cursed the secret arts,
The spring of all this woe; instant to crush thee,
Though the dread thunder swept--ne'er should this arm
Refrain the bolts of death: I slew my brother!
Hear it and tremble! in her arms I found him;
She was my love, my chosen bride; and he--
My brother--in her arms! Thou hast heard all!
If it be true--oh, if she be my sister--
And his! then I have done a deed that mocks
The power of sacrifice and prayers to ope
The gates of mercy to my soul!
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
The tidings on thy heart dismayed
Have burst, and naught remains; behold!
'Tis come, nor long delayed,
Whate'er the warning seers foretold:
They spoke the message from on high,
Their lips proclaimed resistless destiny!
The mortal shall the curse fulfil
Who seeks to turn predestined ill.
ISABELLA.
The gods have done their worst; if they be true
Or false, 'tis one--for nothing they can add
To this--the measure of their rage is full.
Why should I tremble that have naught to fear?
My darling son lies murdered, and the living
I call my son no more. Oh! I have borne
And nourished at my breast a basilisk
That stung my best-beloved child. My daughter, haste,
And leave this house of horrors--I devote it
To the avenging fiends! In an evil hour
'Twas crime that brought me hither, and of crime
The victim I depart. Unwillingly
I came--in sorrow I have lived--despairing
I quit these halls; on me, the innocent,
Descends this weight of woe! Enough--'tis shown
That Heaven is just, and oracles are true!
