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

ISABELLA (to MESSENGER)               Now speak, and nothing hide   Of weal or woe; be truth upon thy lips!   What tidings bear'st thou from the mountain seer?MESSENGER   His answer: "Quick! retrace thy steps; the lost one   Is found."ISABELLA         Auspicious tongue! Celestial sounds   Of peace and joy! thus ever to my vows.   Thrice honored sage, thy kindly message spoke!   But say, which heaven-directed brother traced   My daughter?MESSENGER   'Twas thy eldest born that found   The deep-secluded maid.ISABELLA                Is it Don Manuel   That gives her to my arms? Oh, he was ever   The child of blessing! Tell me, hast thou borne   My offering to the aged man? the tapers   To burn before his saint? for gifts, the prize   Of worldly hearts, the man of God disdains.MESSENGER   He took the torches from my hands in silence   And stepping to the altar – where the lamp   Burned to his saint – illumed them at his fire,   And instant set in flames the hermit cell,   Where he has honored God these ninety years!ISABELLA   What hast thou said? What horrors fright my soul?MESSENGER   And three times shrieking "Woe!" with downward course,   He fled; but silent with uplifted arm   Beckoned me not to follow, nor regard him   So hither I have hastened, terror-sped.ISABELLA   Oh, I am tossed amid the surge again   Of doubt and anxious fears; thy tale appals   With ominous sounds of ill. My daughter found —   Thou sayest; and by my eldest born, Don Manuel?   The tidings ne'er shall bless, that heralded   This deed of woe!MESSENGER             My mistress! look around   Behold the hermit's message to thine eyes   Fulfilled. Some charm deludes my sense, or hither   Thy daughter comes, girt by the warlike train   Of thy two sons!

[BEATRICE is carried in by the Second Chorus on a litter, and placed in the front of the stage. She is still without perception, and motionless.

ISABELLA, DIEGO, MESSENGER, BEATRICE.

Chorus (BOHEMUND, ROGER, HIPPOLYTE, and the other nine followers of DON CAESAR.)

Chorus (BOHEMUND)            Here at thy feet we lay   The maid, obedient to our lord's command:   'Twas thus he spoke – "Conduct her to my mother;   And tell her that her son, Don Caesar, sends her!"ISABELLA (is advancing towards her with outstretched arms, and starts back in horror)   Heavens! she is motionless and pale!Chorus (BOHEMUND)                      She lives,   She will awake, but give her time to rouse   From the dread shock that holds each sense enthralled.ISABELLA   My daughter! Child of all my cares and pains!   And is it thus I see thee once again?   Thus thou returnest to thy father's halls!   Oh, let my breath relume thy vital spark;   Yes! I will strain thee to a mother's arms   And hold thee fast – till from the frost of death   Released thy life-warm current throbs again.

[To the Chorus.

   Where hast thou found her? Speak! What dire mischance   Has caused this sight of woe?Chorus (BOHEMUND)                   My lips are dumb!   Ask not of me: thy son will tell thee all —   Don Caesar – for 'tis he that sends her.ISABELLA                        'Tell me   Would'st thou not say Don Manuel?Chorus (BOHEMUND)                     'Tis Don Caesar   That sends her to thee.ISABELLA (to the MESSENGER)                How declared the Seer?   Speak! Was it not Don Manuel?MESSENGER                   'Twas he!   Thy elder born.ISABELLA            Be blessings on his head   Which e'er it be; to him I owe a daughter,   Alas! that in this blissful hour, so long   Expected, long implored, some envious fiend   Should mar my joy! Oh, I must stem the tide   Of nature's transport! In her childhood's home   I see my daughter; me she knows not – heeds not —   Nor answers to a mother's voice of love   Ope, ye dear eyelids – hands be warm – and heave   Thou lifeless bosom with responsive throbs   To mine! 'Tis she! Diego, look! 'tis Beatrice!   The long-concealed – the lost – the rescued one!   Before the world I claim her for my own!Chorus (BOHEMUND)   New signs of terror to my boding soul   Are pictured; – in amazement lost I stand!   What light shall pierce this gloom of mystery?ISABELLA (to the Chorus, who exhibit marks of confusion and embarrassment)   Oh, ye hard hearts! Ye rude unpitying men!   A mother's transport from your breast of steel   Rebounds, as from the rocks the heaving surge!   I look around your train, nor mark one glance   Of soft regard. Where are my sons? Oh, tell me   Why come they not, and from their beaming eyes   Speak comfort to my soul? For here environed   I stand amid the desert's raging brood,   Or monsters of the deep!DIEGO                She opes her eyes!   She moves! She lives!ISABELLA               She lives! On me be thrown   Her earliest glance!DIEGO              See! They are closed again —   She shudders!ISABELLA (to the Chorus)           Quick! Retire – your aspect frights her.

[Chorus steps back.

RORER   Well pleased I shun her sight.DIEGO                   With outstretched eyes,   And wonderstruck, she seems to measure thee.BEATRICE   Not strange those lineaments – where am I?ISABELLA                         Slowly   Her sense returns.DIEGO             Behold! upon her knees   She sinks.BEATRICE         Oh, angel visage of my mother!ISABELLA   Child of my heart!BEATRICE             See! kneeling at thy feet   The guilty one!ISABELLA            I hold thee in my arms!   Enough – forgotten all!DIEGO               Look in my face,   Canst thou remember me?BEATRICE                The reverend brows   Of honest old Diego!ISABELLA              Faithful guardian   Of thy young years.BEATRICE              And am I once again   With kindred?ISABELLA           Naught but death shall part us more!BEATRICE   Will thou ne'er send me to the stranger?ISABELLA                        Never!   Fate is appeased.BEATRICE             And am I next thy heart?   And was it all a dream – a hideous dream?   My mother! at my feet he fell! I know not   What brought me hither – yet 'tis well. Oh, bliss!   That I am safe in thy protecting arms;   They would have ta'en me to the princess, mother —   Sooner to death!ISABELLA            My daughter, calm thy fears;   Messina's princess —BEATRICE              Name her not again!   At that ill-omened sound the chill of death   Creeps through my trembling frame.ISABELLA                     My child! but hear me —BEATRICE   She has two sons by mortal hate dissevered,   Don Manuel and Don Caesar —ISABELLA                  'Tis myself!   Behold thy mother!BEATRICE             Have I heard thee? Speak!ISABELLA   I am thy mother, and Messina's princess!BEATRICE   Art thou Don Manuel's and Don Caesar's mother?ISABELLA   And thine! They are thy brethren whom thou namest.BEATRICE   Oh, gleam of horrid light!ISABELLA                 What troubles thee?   Say, whence this strange emotion?BEATRICE                     Yes! 'twas they!   Now I remember all; no dream deceived me,   They met – 'tis fearful truth! Unhappy men!   Where have ye hid him?

[She rushes towards the Chorus; they turn away from her.

A funeral march is heard in the distance.

CHORUS                Horror! Horror!ISABELLA                         Hid!   Speak – who is hid? and what is true? Ye stand   In silent dull amaze – as though ye fathomed   Her words of mystery! In your faltering tones —   Your brows – I read of horrors yet unknown,   That would refrain my tongue! What is it? Tell me!   I will know all! Why fix ye on the door   That awe-struck gaze? What mournful music sounds?

[The march is heard nearer.

Chorus (BOHEMUND)   It comes! it comes! and all shall be declared   With terrible voice. My mistress! steel thy heart,   Be firm, and bear with courage what awaits thee —   For more than women's soul thy destined griefs   Demand.ISABELLA        What comes? and what awaits me? Hark   With fearful tones the death-wail smites mine ear —   It echoes through the house! Where are my sons?

[The first Semi-chorus brings in the body of DON MANUEL on a bier, which is placed at the side of the stage. A black pall is spread over it.

ISABELLA, BEATRICE, DIEGO.

Both Choruses.

First Chorus (CAJETAN)        With sorrow in his train,      From street to street the King of Terror glides;       With stealthy foot, and slow,        He creeps where'er the fleeting race      Of man abides      In turn at every gate      Is heard the dreaded knock of fate,       The message of unutterable woe!BERENGAR      When, in the sere       And autumn leaves decayed,       The mournful forest tells how quickly fade      The glories of the year!       When in the silent tomb oppressed,      Frail man, with weight of days,       Sinks to his tranquil rest;      Contented nature but obeys      Her everlasting law, —      The general doom awakes no shuddering awe!      But, mortals, oh! prepare      For mightier ills; with ruthless hand      Fell murder cuts the holy band —       The kindred tie: insatiate death,      With unrelenting rage,      Bears to his bark the flower of blooming age!CAJETAN      When clouds athwart the lowering sky       Are driven – when bursts with hollow moan       The thunder's peal – our trembling bosoms own      The might of awful destiny!      Yet oft the lightning's glare      Darts sudden through the cloudless air: —       Then in thy short delusive day      Of bliss, oh! dread the treacherous snare;      Nor prize the fleeting goods in vain,       The flowers that bloom but to decay!      Nor wealth, nor joy, nor aught but pain,      Was e'er to mortal's lot secure: —      Our first best lesson – to endure!ISABELLA   What shall I hear? What horrors lurk beneath   This funeral pall?

[She steps towards the bier, but suddenly pauses, and stands irresolute.

Some strange, mysterious dreadEnthrals my sense. I would approach, and suddenThe ice-cold grasp of terror holds me back!

[To BEATRICE, who has thrown herself between her and the bier.

   Whate'er it be, I will unveil —

[On raising the pall she discovers the body of DON MANUEL.

                    Eternal Powers! it is my son!

[She stands in mute horror. BEATRICE sinks to the ground with a shriek of anguish near the bier.

CHORUS   Unhappy mother! 'tis thy son. Thy lips   Have uttered what my faltering tongue denied.ISABELLA   My soul! My Manuel! Oh, eternal grief!   And is it thus I see thee? Thus thy life   Has bought thy sister from the spoiler's rage?   Where was thy brother? Could no arm be found   To shield thee? Oh, be cursed the hand that dug   These gory wounds! A curse on her that bore   The murderer of my son! Ten thousand curses   On all their race!CHORUS             Woe! Woe!ISABELLA                   And is it thus   Ye keep your word, ye gods? Is this your truth?   Alas for him that trusts with honest heart   Your soothing wiles! Why have I hoped and trembled?   And this the issue of my prayers! Attend,   Ye terror-stricken witnesses, that feed   Your gaze upon my anguish; learn to know   How warning visions cheat, and boding seers   But mock our credulous hopes; let none believe   The voice of heaven!              When in my teeming womb   This daughter lay, her father, in a dream   Saw from his nuptial couch two laurels grow,   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   The counsels of the mystic art, and thus   Pronounced the sage: "If I a daughter bore,   The murderess of his sons, the destined spring   Of ruin to our house, the baleful child   Should see the light."Chorus (CAJETAN and BOHEMUND)               What hast thou said, my mistress?   Woe! Woe!ISABELLA         For this her ruthless father spoke   The dire behest of death. I rescued her,   The innocent, the doomed one; from my arms   The babe was torn; to stay the curse of heaven,   And save my sons, the mother gave her child;   And now by robber hands her brother falls;   My child is guiltless. Oh, she slew him not!CHORUS   Woe! Woe!ISABELLA   No trust the fabling readers of the stars   Have e'er deserved. Hear how another spoke   With comfort to my soul, and him I deemed   Inspired to voice the secrets of the skies!   "My daughter should unite in love the hearts   Of my dissevered sons;" and thus their tales   Of curse and blessing on her head proclaim   Each other's falsehood. No, she ne'er has brought   A curse, the innocent; nor time was given   The blessed promise to fulfil; their tongues   Were false alike; their boasted art is vain;   With trick of words they cheat our credulous ears,   Or are themselves deceived! Naught ye may know   Of dark futurity, the sable streams   Of hell the fountain of your hidden lore,   Or yon bright spring of everlasting light!First Chorus (CAJETAN)       Woe! Woe! thy tongue refrain!      Oh, pause, nor thus with impious rage       The might of heaven profane;      The holy oracles are wise —      Expect with awe thy coming destinies!ISABELLA   My tongue shall speak as prompts my swelling heart;   My griefs shall cry to heaven. Why do we lift   Our suppliant hands, and at the sacred shrines   Kneel to adore? Good, easy dupes! What win we   From faith and pious awe? to touch with prayers   The tenants of yon azure realms on high,   Were hard as with an arrow's point to pierce   The silvery moon. Hid is the womb of time,   Impregnable to mortal glance, and deaf   The adamantine walls of heaven rebound   The voice of anguish: – Oh, 'tis one, whate'er   The flight of birds – the aspect of the stars!   The book of nature is a maze – a dream   The sage's art – and every sign a falsehood!Second Chorus (BOHEMUND)      Woe! Woe! Ill-fated woman, stay       Thy maddening blasphemies;       Thou but disown'st, with purblind eyes,      The flaming orb of day!      Confess the gods, – they dwell on high —      They circle thee with awful majesty!All the Knights      Confess the gods – they dwell on high —      They circle thee with awful majesty!BEATRICE   Why hast thou saved thy daughter, and defied   The curse of heaven, that marked me in thy womb   The child of woe? Short-sighted mother! – vain   Thy little arts to cheat the doom declared   By the all-wise interpreters, that knit   The far and near; and, with prophetic ken,   See the late harvest spring in times unborn.   Oh, thou hast brought destruction on thy race,   Withholding from the avenging gods their prey;   Threefold, with new embittered rage, they ask   The direful penalty; no thanks thy boon   Of life deserves – the fatal gift was sorrow!

Second Chorus (BERENGAR) looking towards the door with signs of agitation.

       Hark to the sound of dread!      The rattling, brazen din I hear!      Of hell-born snakes the hissing tones are near!       Yes – 'tis the furies' tread!CAJETAN       In crumbling ruin wide,      Fall, fall, thou roof, and sink, thou trembling floor       That bear'st the dread, unearthly stride!      Ye sable damps arise!       Mount from the abyss in smoky spray,       And pall the brightness of the day!      Vanish, ye guardian powers!      They come! The avenging deitiesDON CAESAR, ISABELLA, BEATRICE. The Chorus

[On the entrance of DON CAESAR the Chorus station themselves before him imploringly. He remains standing alone in the centre of the stage.

BEATRICE   Alas! 'tis he —ISABELLA (stepping to meet him)            My Caesar! Oh, my son!   And is it thus I meet the? Look! Behold!   The crime of hand accursed!

[She leads him to the corpse.

First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR)       Break forth once more      Ye wounds! Flow, flow, in swarthy flood,       Thou streaming gore!ISABELLA   Shuddering with earnest gaze, and motionless,   Thou stand'st. – yes! there my hopes repose, and all   That earth has of thy brother; in the bud   Nipped is your concord's tender flower, nor ever   With beauteous fruit shall glad a mother's eyes,DON CAESAR   Be comforted; thy sons, with honest heart,   To peace aspired, but heaven's decree was blood!ISABELLA   I know thou lovedst him well; I saw between ye,   With joy, the bands old Nature sweetly twined;   Thou wouldst have borne him in thy heart of hearts   With rich atonement of long wasted years!   But see – fell murder thwarts thy dear design,   And naught remains but vengeance!DON CAESAR                     Come, my mother,   This is no place for thee. Oh, haste and leave   This sight of woe.

[He endeavors to drag her away.

ISABELLA (throwing herself into his arms)             Thou livest! I have a son!BEATRICE   Alas! my mother!DON CAESAR            On this faithful bosom   Weep out thy pains; nor lost thy son, – his love   Shall dwell immortal in thy Caesar's breast.First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR, MANFRED)      Break forth, ye wounds!      Dumb witness! the truth proclaim;      Flow fast, thou gory stream!ISABELLA (clasping the hands of DON CAESAR and BEATRICE)   My children!DON CAESAR          Oh, 'tis ecstasy! my mother,   To see her in thy arms! henceforth in love   A daughter – sister —ISABELLA (interrupting him)              Thou hast kept thy word.   My son; to thee I owe the rescued one;   Yes, thou hast sent her —DON CAESAR (in astonishment)                 Whom, my mother, sayst thou,   That I have sent?ISABELLA             She stands before thine eyes —   Thy sister.DON CAESAR          She! My sister?ISABELLA                   Ay, What other?DON CAESAR   My sister!ISABELLA         Thou hast sent her to me!DON CAESAR                       Horror!   His sister, too!CHORUS            Woe! woe!BEATRICE                  Alas! my mother!ISABELLA   Speak! I am all amaze!DON CASAR               Be cursed the day   When I was born!ISABELLA            Eternal powers!DON CAESAR                     Accursed   The womb that bore me; cursed the secret arts,   The spring of all this woe; instant to crush thee,   Though the dread thunder swept – ne'er should this arm   Refrain the bolts of death: I slew my brother!   Hear it and tremble! in her arms I found him;   She was my love, my chosen bride; and he —   My brother – in her arms! Thou hast heard all!   If it be true – oh, if she be my sister —   And his! then I have done a deed that mocks   The power of sacrifice and prayers to ope   The gates of mercy to my soul!Chorus (BOHEMUND)      The tidings on thy heart dismayed       Have burst, and naught remains; behold!      'Tis come, nor long delayed,       Whate'er the warning seers foretold:      They spoke the message from on high,      Their lips proclaimed resistless destiny!      The mortal shall the curse fulfil      Who seeks to turn predestined ill.ISABELLA   The gods have done their worst; if they be true   Or false, 'tis one – for nothing they can add   To this – the measure of their rage is full.   Why should I tremble that have naught to fear?   My darling son lies murdered, and the living   I call my son no more. Oh! I have borne   And nourished at my breast a basilisk   That stung my best-beloved child. My daughter, haste,   And leave this house of horrors – I devote it   To the avenging fiends! In an evil hour   'Twas crime that brought me hither, and of crime   The victim I depart. Unwillingly   I came – in sorrow I have lived – despairing   I quit these halls; on me, the innocent,   Descends this weight of woe! Enough – 'tis shown   That Heaven is just, and oracles are true!

[Exit, followed by DIEGO.

BEATRICE, DON CAESAR, the Chorus.

DON CAESAR (detaining BEATRICE)   My sister, wouldst thou leave me? On this head   A mother's curse may fall – a brother's blood   Cry with accusing voice to heaven – all nature   Invoke eternal vengeance on my soul —   But thou – oh! curse me not – I cannot bear it!

[BEATRICE points with averted eyes to the body.

   I have not slain thy lover! 'twas thy brother,   And mine that fell beneath my sword; and near   As the departed one, the living owns   The ties of blood: remember, too, 'tis I   That most a sister's pity need – for pure   His spirit winged its flight, and I am guilty!

[BEATRICE bursts into an agony of tears.

   Weep! I will blend my tears with thine – nay, more,   I will avenge thy brother; but the lover —   Weep not for him – thy passionate, yearning tears   My inmost heart. Oh! from the boundless depths   Of our affliction, let me gather this,   The last and only comfort – but to know   That we are dear alike. One lot fulfilled   Has made our rights and wretchedness the same;   Entangled in one snare we fall together,   Three hapless victims of unpitying fate,   And share the mournful privilege of tears.   But when I think that for the lover more   Than for the brother bursts thy sorrow's tide,   Then rage and envy mingle with my pain,   And hope's last balm forsakes my withering soul?   Nor joyful, as beseems, can I requite   This inured shade: – yet after him content   To mercy's throne my contrite spirit shall fly,   Sped by this hand – if dying I may know   That in one urn our ashes shall repose,   With pious office of a sister's care.

[He throws his arms around her with passionate tenderness.

   I loved thee, as I ne'er had loved before,   When thou wert strange; and that I bear the curse   Of brother's blood, 'tis but because I loved thee   With measureless transport: love was all my guilt,   But now thou art my sister, and I claim   Soft pity's tribute.

[He regards her with inquiring glances, and an air of painful suspense – then turns away with vehemence.

              No! in this dread presence   I cannot bear these tears – my courage flies   And doubt distracts my soul. Go, weep in secret —   Leave me in error's maze – but never, never,   Behold me more: I will not look again   On thee, nor on thy mother. Oh! how passion   Laid bare her secret heart! She never loved me!   She mourned her best-loved son – that was her cry   Of grief – and naught was mine but show of fondness!   And thou art false as she! make no disguise —   Recoil with horror from my sight – this form   Shall never shock thee more – begone forever!

[Exit.

[She stands irresolute in a tumult of conflicting passions – then tears herself from the spot.

Chorus (CAJETAN)      Happy the man – his lot I prize       That far from pomps and turmoil vain,      Childlike on nature's bosom lies       Amid the stillness of the plain.      My heart is sad in the princely hall,       When from the towering pride of state,      I see with headlong ruin fall,       How swift! the good and great!      And he – from fortune's storm at rest       Smiles, in the quiet haven laid      Who, timely warned, has owned how blest       The refuge of the cloistered shade;      To honor's race has bade farewell,       Its idle joys and empty shows;      Insatiate wishes learned to quell,       And lulled in wisdom's calm repose: —      No more shall passion's maddening brood       Impel the busy scenes to try,      Nor on his peaceful cell intrude       The form of sad humanity!      'Mid crowds and strife each mortal ill       Abides' – the grisly train of woe      Shuns like the pest the breezy hill,       To haunt the smoky marts below.BERENGAR, BOHEMUND, and MANFRED      On the mountains is freedom! the breath of decay       Never sullies the fresh flowing air;      Oh, Nature is perfect wherever we stray;       'Tis man that deforms it with care.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 lustre 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 circumstances 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.