Part 4 (1/2)

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 friends.h.i.+p'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, encompa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sage 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 gla.s.sy 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 pa.s.sion's golden dream.

First (MANFRED).

To the wild woods away!