Part 6 (1/2)

We have a sister!

What hast thou said, my mother? never told Her being till this hour!

DON MANUEL.

In childhood's years, Oft of a sister we have heard, untimely s.n.a.t.c.hed in her cradle by remorseless death; So ran the tale.

ISABELLA.

She lives!

DON CAESAR.

And thou wert silent!

ISABELLA.

Hear how the seed was sown in early time, That now shall ripen to a joyful harvest.

Ye bloomed in boyhood's tender age; e'en then By mutual, deadly hate, the bitter spring Of grief to this torn, anxious heart, dissevered; Oh, may your strife return no more! A vision, Strange and mysterious, in your father's breast Woke dire presage: it seemed that from his couch, With branches intertwined, two laurels grew, And in the midst a lily all in flames, That, catching swift the boughs and knotted stems, Burst forth with crackling rage, and o'er the house Spread in one mighty sea of fire: perplexed By this terrific dream, my husband sought An Arab, skilled to read the stars, and long The trusted oracle, whose counsels swayed His inmost purpose: thus the boding sage Spoke Fate's decrees: if I a daughter bore, Destruction to his sons and all his race From her should spring. Soon, by heaven's will, this child Of dreadful omen saw the light; your sire Commanded instant in the waves to throw The new-born innocent; a mother's love Prevailed, and, aided by a faithful servant, I s.n.a.t.c.hed the babe from death.

DON CAESAR.

Blest be the hands The ministers of thy care! Oh, ever rich Of counsels was a parent's love!

ISABELLA.

But more Than Nature's mighty voice, a warning dream Impelled to save my child: while yet unborn She slumbered in my womb, sleeping I saw An infant, fair as of celestial kind, That played upon the gra.s.s; soon from the wood A lion rushed, and from his gory jaws, Caressing, in the infant's lap let fall His prey, new-caught; then through the air down swept An eagle, and with fond caress alike Dropped from his claws a trembling kid, and both Cowered at the infant's feet, a gentle pair.

A monk, the saintly guide whose counsels poured In every earthly need, the balm of heaven Upon my troubled soul, my dream resolved.

Thus spoke the man of G.o.d: a daughter, sent To knit the warring spirits of my sons In bonds of tender love, should recompense A mother's pains! Deep in my heart I treasured His words, and, reckless of the Pagan seer, Preserved the blessed child, ordained of heaven To still your growing strife; sweet pledge of hope And messenger of peace!

DON MANUEL (embracing his brother).

There needs no sister To join our hearts; she shall but bind them closer.

ISABELLA.

In a lone spot obscure, by stranger hands Nurtured, the secret flower has grown; to me Denied the joy to mark each infant charm And opening grace from that sad hour of parting; These arms ne'er clasped my child again! her sire, To jealousy's corroding fears a prey, And brooding dark suspicion, restless tracked Each day my steps.

DON CAESAR.

Yet three months flown, my father Sleeps in the tranquil grave; say, whence delayed The joyous tidings? Why so long concealed The maid, nor earlier taught our hearts to glow With brother's love?

ISABELLA.

The cause, your frenzied hate, That raging unconfined, e'en on the tomb Of your scarce buried father, lit the flames Of mortal strife. What! could I throw my daughter Betwixt your gleaming blades? Or 'mid the storm Of pa.s.sion would ye list a woman's counsels?

Could she, sweet pledge of peace, of all our hopes The last and holy anchor, 'mid the rage Of discord find a home? Ye stand as brothers, So will I give a sister to your arms!

The reconciling angel comes; each hour I wait my messenger's return; he leads her From her sequestered cell, to glad once more A mother's eyes.

DON MANUEL.

Nor her alone this day Thy arms shall fold; joy pours through all our gates; Soon shall the desolate halls be full, the seat Of every blooming grace. Now hear my secret: A sister thou hast given; to thee I bring A daughter; bless thy son! My heart has found Its lasting shrine: ere this day's sun has set Don Manuel to thy feet shall lead his bride, The partner of his days.

ISABELLA.

And to my breast With transport will I clasp the chosen maid That makes my first-born happy. Joy shall spring Where'er she treads, and every flower that blooms Around the path of life smile in her presence!

May bliss reward the son, that for my brows Has twined the choicest wreath a mother wears.

DON CAESAR.

Yet give not all the fulness of thy blessing To him, thy eldest born. If love be blest, I, too, can give thee joy. I bring a daughter, Another flower for thy most treasured garland!

The maid that in this ice-cold bosom first Awoke the rapturous flame! Ere yonder sun Declines, Don Caesar's bride shall call thee mother.

DON MANUEL.

Almighty Love! thou G.o.dlike power--for well We call thee sovereign of the breast! Thy sway Controls each warring element, and tunes To soft accord; naught lives but owns thy greatness.