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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