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

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).