The Bride of Messina, Friedrich Schiller [e reader books .txt] 📗

all the world
With heartless taunts pursues thee, to our grave
For refuge fly, my mother, and invoke
Thy sons' divinity - we shall be gods!
And we will hear thy prayers: - and as the twins
Of heaven, a beaming star of comfort shine
To the tossed shipman - we will hover near thee
With present help, and soothe thy troubled soul!

ISABELLA.
Live - for thy mother, live, my son -
Must I lose all?

[She throws her arms about him with passionate emotion.
He gently disengages himself, and turning his face away
extends to her his hand.

DON CAESAR.
Farewell!

ISABELLA.
I can no more;
Too well my tortured bosom owns how weak
A mother's prayers: a mightier voice shall sound
Resistless on thy heart.

[She goes towards the entrance of the scene.

My daughter, come.
A brother calls him to the realms of night;
Perchance with golden hues of earthly joy
The sister, the beloved, may gently lure
The wanderer to life again.

[BEATRICE appears at the entrance of the scene.

DONNA ISABELLA, DON CAESAR, and the Chorus.

DON CAESAR (on seeing her, covers his face with his hands).
My mother!
What hast thou done?

ISABELLA (leading BEATRICE forwards).
A mother's prayers are vain!
Kneel at his feet - conjure him - melt his heart!
Oh, bid him live!

DON CAESAR.
Deceitful mother, thus
Thou triest thy son! And wouldst thou stir my soul
Again to passion's strife, and make the sun
Beloved once more, now when I tread the paths
Of everlasting night? See where he stands -
Angel of life! - and wondrous beautiful,
Shakes from his plenteous horn the fragrant store
Of golden fruits and flowers, that breathe around
Divinest airs of joy; - my heart awakes
In the warm sunbeam - hope returns, and life
Thrills in my breast anew.

ISABELLA (to BEATRICE).
Thou wilt prevail!
Or none! Implore him that he live, nor rob
The staff and comfort of our days.

BEATRICE.
The loved one
A sacrifice demands. Oh, let me die
To soothe a brother's shade! Yes, I will be
The victim! Ere I saw the light forewarned
To death, I live a wrong to heaven! The curse
Pursues me still: 'twas I that slew thy son -
I waked the slumbering furies of their strife -
Be mine the atoning blood!

CAJETAN.
Ill-fated mother!
Impatient all thy children haste to doom,
And leave thee on the desolate waste alone
Of joyous life.

BEATRICE.
Oh, spare thy precious days
For nature's band. Thy mother needs a son;
My brother, live for her! Light were the pang
To lose a daughter - but a moment shown,
Then snatched away!

DON CAESAR (with deep emotion).
'Tis one to live or die,
Blest with a sister's love!

BEATRICE.
Say, dost thou envy
Thy brother's ashes?

DON CAESAR.
In thy grief he lives
A hallowed life! - my doom is death forever!

BEATRICE.
My brother!

DON CAESAR.
Sister! are thy tears for me?

BEATRICE.
Live for our mother!

DON CAESAR (dropping her hand, and stepping back).
For our mother?

BEATRICE (hiding her head in his breast).
Live
For her and for thy sister!

Chorus (BOHEMUND).
She has won!
Resistless are her prayers. Despairing mother,
Awake to hope again - his choice is made!
Thy son shall live!

[At this moment an anthem is heard. The folding doors
are thrown open, and in the church is seen the catafalque
erected, and the coffin surrounded with candlesticks.

DON CAESAR (turning to the coffin).
I will not rob thee, brother!
The sacrifice is thine: - Hark! from the tomb,
Mightier than mother's tears, or sister's love,
Thy voice resistless cries: - my arms enfold
A treasure, potent with celestial joys,
To deck this earthly sphere, and make a lot
Worthy the gods! but shall I live in bliss,
While in the tomb thy sainted innocence
Sleeps unavenged? Thou, Ruler of our days,
All just - all wise - let not the world behold
Thy partial care! I saw her tears! - enough -
They flowed for me! I am content: my brother!
I come!

[He stabs himself with a dagger, and falls dead
at his sister's feet. She throws herself into her
mother's arms.

Chorus, CAJETAN (after a deep silence).
In dread amaze I stand, nor know
If I should mourn his fate. One truth revealed
Speaks in my breast; - no good supreme is life;
But all of earthly ills the chief is - Guilt!


THE END
Imprint

Publication Date: 05-21-2008

All Rights Reserved