The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy | Page 6

Soon as my sense Returned, I felt her bosom throb responsive To mine,--then fell melodious on my ear The sound, as of a convent bell, that called To vesper song; and, like some shadowy vision That melts in air, she flitted from my sight, And was beheld no more.
Chorus (CAJETAN). Thy story thrills My breast with pious awe! Prince, thou hast robbed The sanctuary, and for the bride of heaven Burned with unholy passion! Oh, remember The cloister's sacred vows!
DON MANUEL. Thenceforth one path My footsteps wooed; the fickle train was still Of young desires--new felt my being's aim, My soul revealed! and as the pilgrim turns His wistful gaze, where, from the orient sky, With gracious lustre beams Redemption's star;-- So to that brightest point of heaven, her presence, My hopes and longings centred all. No sun Sank in the western waves, but smiled farewell To two united lovers:--thus in stillness Our hearts were twined,--the all-seeing air above us Alone the faithful witness of our joys! Oh, golden hours! Oh, happy days! nor Heaven Indignant viewed our bliss;--no vows enchained Her spotless soul; naught but the link which bound it Eternally to mine!
Chorus (CAJETAN). Those hallowed walls, Perchance the calm retreat of tender youth, No living grave?
DON MANUEL. In infant innocence Consigned a holy pledge, ne'er has she left Her cloistered home.
Chorus (CAJETAN). But what her royal line? The noble only spring from noble stem.
DON MANUEL. A secret to herself,--she ne'er has learned Her name or fatherland.
Chorus (CAJETAN). And not a trace Guides to her being's undiscovered springs?
DON MANUEL. An old domestic, the sole messenger Sent by her unknown mother, oft bespeaks her Of kingly race.
Chorus (CAJETAN). And hast thou won naught else From her garrulous age?
DON MANUEL. Too much I feared to peril My secret bliss!
Chorus (CAJETAN). What were his words? What tidings He bore--perchance thou know'st.
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 friendship'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, encompassed 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 passage 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