Part 461 (1/2)

The whole Chorus repeats.

On the mountains is freedom, etc., etc.

DON CAESAR, the Chorus.

DON CAESAR (more collected).

I use the princely rights--'tis the last time-- To give this body to the ground, and pay Fit honors to the dead. So mark, my friends, My bosom's firm resolve, and quick fulfil Your lord's behest. Fresh in your memory lives The mournful pomp, when to the tomb ye bore So late my royal sire; scarce in these halls Are stilled the echoes of the funeral wail; Another corpse succeeds, and in the grave Weighs down its fellow-dust--almost our torch With borrowed l.u.s.tre from the last, may pierce The monumental gloom; and on the stair, Blends in one throng confused two mourning trains.

Then in the sacred royal dome that guards The ashes of my sire, prepare with speed The funeral rites; unseen of mortal eye, And noiseless be your task--let all be graced, As then, with circ.u.mstances of kingly state.

BOHEMUND.

My prince, it shall be quickly done; for still Upreared, the gorgeous catafalque recalls The dread solemnity; no hand disturbed The edifice of death.

DON CAESAR.

The yawning grave Amid the haunts of life? No goodly sign Was this: the rites fulfilled, why lingered yet The trappings of the funeral show?

BOHEMUND.

Your strife With fresh embittered hate o'er all Messina Woke discord's maddening flames, and from the deed Our cares withdrew--so resolute remained, And closed the sanctuary.

DON CAESAR.

Make no delay; This very night fulfil your task, for well Beseems the midnight gloom! To-morrow's sun Shall find this palace cleansed of every stain, And light a happier race.

[Exit the Second Chorus, with the body of DON MANUEL.

CAJETAN.

Shall I invite The brotherhood of monks, with rights ordained By holy church of old, to celebrate The office of departed souls, and hymn The buried one to everlasting rest?

DON CAESAR.

Their strains above my tomb shall sound for ever Amid the torches' blaze--no solemn rites Beseem the day when gory murder scares Heaven's pardoning grace.

CAJETAN.

Oh, let not wild despair Tempt thee to impious, rash resolve. My prince No mortal arm shall e'er avenge this deed; And penance calms, with soft, atoning power, The wrath on high.

DON CAESAR.

If for eternal justice Earth has no minister, myself shall wield The avenging sword; though heaven, with gracious ear, Inclines to sinners' prayers, with blood alone Atoned is murder's guilt.

CAJETAN.

To stem the tide Of dire misfortune, that with maddening rage Bursts o'er your house, were n.o.bler than to pile Acc.u.mulated woe.

DON CAESAR.

The curse of old Shall die with me! Death self-imposed alone Can break the chain of fate.

CAJETAN.

Thou owest thyself A sovereign to this orphaned land, by thee Robbed of its other lord!

DON CAESAR.

The avenging G.o.ds Demand their prey--some other deity May guard the living!

CAJETAN.

Wide as e'er the sun In glory beams, the realm of hope extends; But--oh remember! nothing may we gain From Death!

DON CAESAR.