The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy | Page 5

Our lives belong to love.
DON CESAR. What calls me hence----
DON MANUEL. Enough! thou leav'st thy heart.
DON CAESAR. No envious secret Shall part us long; soon the last
darkening fold Shall vanish from my breast.
[Turning to the CHORUS.
Attend! Forever Stilled is our strife; he is my deadliest foe, Detested as
the gates of hell, who dares To blow the fires of discord; none may
hope To win my love, that with malicious tales Encroach upon a
brother's ear, and point With busy zeal of false, officious friendship.
The dart of some rash, angry word, escaped From passion's heat; it
wounds not from the lips, But, swallowed by suspicion's greedy ear,
Like a rank, poisonous weed, embittered creeps, And hangs about her
with a thousand shoots, Perplexing nature's ties.
[He embraces his brother again, and goes away accompanied by the
Second CHORUS.
Chorus (CAJETAN). Wondering, my prince, I gaze, for in thy looks
some mystery Strange-seeming shows: scarce with abstracted mien
And cold thou answered'st, when with earnest heart Thy brother poured
the strain of dear affection. As in a dream thou stand'st, and lost in
thought, As though--dissevered from its earthly frame-- Thy spirit
roved afar. Not thine the breast That deaf to nature's voice, ne'er owned

the throbs Of kindred love:--nay more--like one entranced In bliss, thou
look'st around, and smiles of rapture Play on thy cheek.
DON MANUEL. How shall my lips declare The transports of my
swelling heart? My brother Revels in glad surprise, and from his breast
Instinct with strange new-felt emotions, pours The tide of joy; but
mine--no hate came with me, Forgot the very spring of mutual strife!
High o'er this earthly sphere, on rapture's wings, My spirit floats; and in
the azure sea, Above--beneath--no track of envious night Disturbs the
deep serene! I view these halls, And picture to my thoughts the timid
joy Of my sweet bride, as through the palace gates, In pride of queenly
state, I lead her home. She loved alone the loving one, the stranger,
And little deems that on her beauteous brow Messina's prince shall
'twine the nuptial wreath. How sweet, with unexpected pomp of
greatness, To glad the darling of my soul! too long I brook this dull
delay of crowning bliss! Her beauty's self, that asks no borrowed charm,
Shall shine refulgent, like the diamond's blaze That wins new lustre
from the circling gold!
Chorus (CAJETAN). Long have I marked thee, prince, with curious
eye, Foreboding of some mystery deep enshrined Within thy laboring
breast. This day, impatient, Thy lips have burst the seal; and
unconstrained Confess a lover's joy;--the gladdening chase, The
Olympian coursers, and the falcon's flight Can charm no more:--soon
as the sun declines Beneath the ruddy west, thou hiest thee quick To
some sequestered path, of mortal eye Unseen--not one of all our
faithful train Companion of thy solitary way. Say, why so long
concealed the blissful flame? Stranger to fear--ill-brooked thy princely
heart One thought unuttered.
DON MANUEL. Ever on the wing Is mortal joy;--with silence best we
guard The fickle good;--but now, so near the goal Of all my cherished
hopes, I dare to speak. To-morrow's sun shall see her mine! no power
Of hell can make us twain! With timid stealth No longer will I creep at
dusky eve, To taste the golden fruits of Cupid's tree, And snatch a
fearful, fleeting bliss: to-day With bright to-morrow shall be one! So
smooth As runs the limpid brook, or silvery sand That marks the flight

of time, our lives shall flow In continuity of joy!
Chorus (CAJETAN). Already Our hearts, my prince, with silent vows
have blessed Thy happy love; and now from every tongue, For her--the
royal, beauteous bride--should sound The glad acclaim; so tell what
nook unseen, What deep umbrageous solitude, enshrines The charmer
of thy heart? With magic spells Almost I deem she mocks our gaze, for
oft In eager chase we scour each rustic path And forest dell; yet not a
trace betrayed The lover's haunts, ne'er were the footsteps marked Of
this mysterious fair.
DON MANUEL. The spell is broke! And all shall be revealed: now list
my tale:-- 'Tis five months flown,--my father yet controlled The land,
and bowed our necks with iron sway; Little I knew but the wild joys of
arms, And mimic warfare of the chase;-- One day,-- Long had we
tracked the boar with zealous toil On yonder woody ridge:--it chanced,
pursuing A snow-white hind, far from your train I roved Amid the
forest maze;--the timid beast, Along the windings of the narrow vale,
Through rocky cleft and thick-entangled brake, Flew onward, scarce a
moment lost, nor distant Beyond a javelin's throw; nearer I came not,
Nor took an aim; when through a garden's gate, Sudden she