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!
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