The Bride of Messina (play)

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The Bride of Messina (play) Page 6

by Friedrich Schiller

Second Chorus (ROGER, BOHEMUND) interrupting them.

  They came

  DON MANUEL (to the First Chorus).

  Speak thou!

  First Chorus (CAJETAN).

  With wreaths adorned, in festal train,

  We bore the bridal gifts; no thought of ill

  Disturbed our peaceful way; composed forever

  With holy pledge of love we deemed your strife,

  And trusting came; when here in rude array

  Of arms encamped they stood, and loud defied us!

  DON MANUEL.

  Slave! Is no refuge safe? Shall discord thus

  Profane the bower of virgin innocence,

  The home of sanctity and peace?

  [To the Second Chorus.

  Retire-

  Your warlike presence ill beseems; away!

  I would be private.

  [They hesitate.

  In your master's name

  I give command; our souls are one, our lips

  Declare each other's thoughts; begone!

  [To the First Chorus.

  Remain!

  And guard the entrance.

  BOHEMUND.

  So! What next? Our masters

  Are reconciled; that's plain; and less he wins

  Of thanks than peril, that with busy zeal

  In princely quarrel stirs; for when of strife

  His mightiness aweary feels, of guilt

  He throws the red-dyed mantle unconcerned

  On his poor follower's luckless head, and stands

  Arrayed in virtue's robes! So let them end

  E'en as they will their brawls, I hold it best

  That we obey.

  [Exit Second Chorus. The first withdraws to the

  back of the stage; at the same moment BEATRICE rushes

  forward, and throws herself into DON MANUEL'S arms.

  BEATRICE.

  'Tis thou! Ah! cruel one,

  Again I see thee-clasp thee-long appalled,

  To thousand ills a prey, trembling I languish

  For thy return: no more-in thy loved arms

  I am at peace, nor think of dangers past,

  Thy breast my shield from every threatening harm.

  Quick! Let us fly! they see us not!-away!

  Nor lose the moment.

  Ha! Thy looks affright me!

  Thy sullen, cold reserve! Thou tear'st thyself

  Impatient from my circling arms, I know thee

  No more! Is this Don Manuel? My beloved?

  My husband?

  DON MANUEL.

  Beatrice!

  BEATRICE.

  No words! The moment

  Is precious! Haste.

  DON MANUEL.

  Yet tell me--

  BEATRICE.

  Quick! Away!

  Ere those fierce men return.

  DON MANUEL.

  Be calm, for naught

  Shall trouble thee of ill.

  BEATRICE.

  Oh, fly! alas,

  Thou know'st them not!

  DON MANUEL.

  Protected by this arm

  Canst thou fear aught?

  BEATRICE.

  Oh, trust me; mighty men

  Are here!

  DON MANUEL.

  Beloved! mightier none than I!

  BEATRICE.

  And wouldst thou brave this warlike host alone?

  DON MANUEL.

  Alone! the men thou fear'st--

  BEATRICE.

  Thou know'st them not,

  Nor whom they serve.

  DON MANUEL.

  Myself! I am their lord!

  BEATRICE.

  Thou art-a shudder creeps through all my frame!

  DON MANUEL.

  Far other than I seemed; learn at last

  To know me, Beatrice. Not the poor knight

  Am I, the stranger and unknown, that loving

  Taught thee to love; but what I am-my race-

  My power--

  BEATRICE.

  And art thou not Don Manuel? Speak-

  Who art thou?

  DON MANUEL.

  Chief of all that bear the name,

  I am Don Manuel, Prince of Messina!

  BEATRICE.

  Art thou Don Manuel, Don Caesar's brother?

  DON MANUEL.

  Don Caesar is my brother.

  BEATRICE.

  Is thy brother!

  DON MANUEL.

  What means this terror? Know'st thou, then, Don Caesar?

  None other of my race?

  BEATRICE.

  Art thou Don Manuel,

  That with thy brother liv'st in bitter strife

  Of long inveterate hate?

  DON MANUEL.

  This very sun

  Smiled on our glad accord! Yes, we are brothers!

  Brothers in heart!

  BEATRICE.

  And reconciled? This day?

  DON MANUEL.

  What stirs this wild disorder? Hast thou known

  Aught but our name? Say, hast thou told me all?

  Is there no secret? Hast thou naught concealed?

  Nothing disguised?

  BEATRICE.

  Thy words are dark; explain,

  What shall I tell thee?

  DON MANUEL.

  Of thy mother naught

  Hast thou e'er told; who is she? If in words

  I paint her, bring her to thy sight--

  BEATRICE.

  Thou know'st her!

  And thou wert silent!

  DON MANUEL.

  If I know thy mother,

  Horrors betide us both!

  BEATRICE.

  Oh, she is gracious

  As the sun's orient beam! Yes! I behold her;

  Fond memory wakes;-and from my bosom's depths

  Her godlike presence rises to my view!

  I see around her snowy neck descend

  The tresses of her raven hair, that shade

  The form of sculptured loveliness; I see

  The pale, high-thoughted brow; the darkening glance

  Of her large lustrous orbs; I hear the tones

  Of soul-fraught sweetness!

  DON MANUEL.

  'Tis herself!

  BEATRICE.

  This day,

  Perchance had give me to her arms, and knit

  Our souls in everlasting love;-such bliss

  I have renounced, yes! I have lost a mother

  For thee!

  DON MANUEL.

  Console thyself, Messina's princess

  Henceforth shall call thee daughter; to her feet

  I lead thee; come-she waits. What hast thou said?

  BEATRICE.

  Thy mother and Don Caesar's? Never! never!

  DON MANUEL.

  Thou shudderest! Whence this horror? Hast thou known

  My mother? Speak--

  BEATRICE.

  O grief! O dire misfortune!

  Alas! that e'er I live to see this day!

  DON MANUEL.

  What troubles thee? Thou know'st me, thou hast found,

  In the poor stranger knight, Messina's prince!

  BEATRICE.

  Give me the dear unknown again! With him

  On earth's remotest wilds I could be blest!

  DON CAESAR (behind the scene).

  Away! What rabble throng is here?

  BEATRICE.

  That voice!

  Oh heavens! Where shall I fly!

  DON MANUEL.

  Know'st thou that voice?

  No! thou hast never heard it; to thine ear

  'Tis strange--

  BEATRICE.

  Oh, come-delay not--

  DON MANUEL.

  Wherefore I fly?

  It is my brother's voice! He seeks me-how

  He tracked my steps--

  BEATRICE.

  By all the holy saints!

  Brave not his wrath! oh quit this place-avoid him-

  Meet not thy brothe
r here!

  DON MANUEL.

  My soul! thy fears

  Confound; thou hear'st me not; our strife is o'er.

  Yes! we are reconciled.

  BEATRICE.

  Protect me, heaven,

  In this dread hour!

  DON MANUEL.

  A sudden dire presage

  Starts in my breast-I shudder at the thought:

  If it be true! Oh, horror! Could she know

  That voice! Wert thou-my tongue denies to utter

  The words of fearful import-Beatrice!

  Say, wert thou present at the funeral rites

  Of my dead sire?

  BEATRICE.

  Alas!

  DON MANUEL.

  Thou wert!

  BEATRICE.

  Forgive me!

  DON MANUEL.

  Unhappy woman!

  BEATRICE.

  I was present!

  DON MANUEL.

  Horror!

  BEATRICE.

  Some mighty impulse urged me to the scene-

  Oh, be not angry-to thyself I owned

  The ardent fond desire; with darkening brow

  Thou listened'st to my prayer, and I was silent,

  But what misguiding inauspicious star

  Allured, I know not; from my inmost soul

  The wish, the dear emotion spoke; and vain

  Aught else:-Diego gave consent-oh, pardon me!

  I disobeyed thee.

  [She advances towards him imploringly; at the same moment

  DON CAESAR enters, accompanied by the whole Chorus.

  BOTH BROTHERS, BOTH CHORUSES, BEATRICE.

  Second Chorus (BOHEMUND) to DON CAESAR.

  Thou heliev'st us not-

  Believe thine eyes!

  DON CAESAR (rushes forward furiously, and at the sight of his brother

  starts back with horror).

  Some hell-born magic cheats

  My senses; in her arms! Envenomed snake!

  Is this thy love? For this thy treacherous heart

  Could lure with guise of friendship! Oh, from heaven

  Breathed my immortal hate! Down, down to hell,

  Thou soul of falsehood!

  [He stabs him, DON MANUEL falls.

  DON MANUEL.

  Beatrice!-my brother!

  I die!

  [Dies. BEATRICE sinks lifeless at his side.

  First Chorus (CAJETAN).

  Help! Help! To arms! Avenge with blood

  The bloody deed!

  Second Chorus (BOHEMUND).

  The fortune of the day

  Is ours! The strife forever stilled:-Messina

  Obeys one lord.

  First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR, MANFRED).

  Revenge! The murderer

  Shall die! Quick, offer to your master's shade

  Appeasing sacrifice!

  Second Chorus (BOHEMUND, ROGER, HIPPOLYTE).

  My prince! fear nothing,

  Thy friends are true.

  DON CAESAR (steps between them, looking around).

  Be still! The foe is slain

  That practised on my trusting, honest heart

  With snares of brother's love. Oh, direful shows

  The deed of death! But righteous heaven hath judged.

  First Chorus (CAJETAN).

  Alas to thee, Messina! Woe forever!

  Sad city! From thy blood-stained walls this deed

  Of nameless horror taints the skies; ill fare

  Thy mothers and thy children, youth and age,

  And offspring yet, unborn!

  DON CAESAR.

  Too late your grief-

  Here give your help.

  [Pointing to BEATRICE.

  Call her to life, and quick

  Depart this scene of terror and of death.

  I must away and seek my sister:-Hence!

  Conduct her to my mother-

  And tell her that her son, Don Caesar, sends her!

  [Exit.

  [The senseless BEATRICE is placed on a litter and

  carried away by the Second Chorus. The First Chorus

  remains with the body, round which the boys who bear

  the bridal presents range themselves in a semicircle.

  Chorus (CAJETAN).

  List, how with dreaded mystery

  Was signed to my prophetic soul,

  Of kindred blood the dire decree:-

  Hither with noiseless, giant stride

  I saw the hideous fiend of terror glide!

  'Tis past! I strive not to control

  My shuddering awe-so swift of ill

  The Fates the warning sign fulfil.

  Lo! to my sense dismayed,

  Sudden the deed of death has shown

  Whate'er my boding fears portrayed.

  The visioned thought was pain;

  The present horror curdles every vein

  One of the Chorus (MANFRED).

  Sound, sound the plaint of woe!

  Beautiful youth!

  Outstretched and pale he lies,

  Untimely cropped in early bloom;

  The heavy night of death has sealed his eyes;-

  In this glad hour of nuptial joy,

  Snatched by relentless doom,

  He sleeps-while echoing to the sky,

  Of sorrow bursts the loud, despairing cry!

  A second (CAJETAN).

  We come, we come, in festal pride,

  To greet the beauteous bride;

  Behold! the nuptial gifts, the rich attire

  The banquet waits, the guests are there;

  They bid thee to the solemn rite

  Of hymen quick repair.

  Thou hear'st them not-the sportive lyre,

  The frolic dance, shall ne'er invite;

  Nor wake thee from thy lowly bed,

  For deep the slumber of the dead!

  The whole Chorus.

  No more the echoing horn shall cheer

  Nor bride with tones of sweetness charm his ear.

  On the cold earth he lies,

  In death's eternal slumber closed his eyes.

  A third (CAJETAN).

  What are the hopes, and fond desires

  Of mortals' transitory race?

  This day, with harmony of voice and soul,

  Ye woke the long-extinguished fires

  Of brothers' love-yon flaming orb

  Lit with his earliest beams your dear embrace

  At eve, upon the gory sand

  Thou liest-a reeking corpse!

  Stretched by a brother's murderous hand.

  Vain projects, treacherous hopes,

  Child of the fleeting hour are thine;

  Fond man! thou rear'st on dust each bold design,

  Chorus (BERENGAR).

  To thy mother I will bear

  The burden of unutterable woe!

  Quick shall yon cypress, blooming fair,

  Bend to the axe's murderous blow

  Then twine the mournful bier!

  For ne'er with verdant life the tree shall smile

  That grew on death's devoted soil;

  Ne'er in the breeze the branches play,

  Nor shade the wanderer in the noontide ray;

  'Twas marked to bear the fruits of doom,

  Cursed to the service of the tomb.

  First (CAJETAN).

  Woe to the murderer! Woe

  That sped exulting in his pride,

  Behold! the parched earth drinks the crimson tide.

  Down, down it flows, unceasingly,

  To the dim caverned halls below,

  Where throned in kindred gloom the sister train,

  Of Themis progeny severe,

  Brood in their songless, silent reign!

  Stern minister of wrath's decree,

  They catch in swarthy cups thy streaming gore,

  And pledge with horrid rites for vengeance evermore.

  Second (BERENGAR).

 

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