First Chorus (CAJETAN).

Welcome the peaceful strain!

Together we adore the guardian power Of these august abodes!

Sacred the hour To kindred brotherly ties And reverend, holy sympathies;-- Our hearts the genial charm shall own, And melt awhile at friendship's soothing tone:-- But when in yonder plain We meet--then peace away!

Come gleaming arms, and battle's deadly fray!

The whole Chorus.

But when in yonder plain We meet--then peace away!

Come gleaming arms, and battle's deadly fray!

First Chorus (BERENGAR).

I hate thee not--nor call thee foe, My brother! this our native earth, The land that gave our fathers birth:-- Of chief's behest the slave decreed, The va.s.sal draws the sword at need, For chieftain's rage we strike the blow, For stranger lords our kindred blood must flow.

Second Chorus (BOHEMUND).

Hate fires their souls--we ask not why;-- At honor's call to fight and die, Boast of the true and brave!

Unworthy of a soldier's name Who burns not for his chieftain's fame!

The whole Chorus.

Unworthy of a soldier's name Who burns not for his chieftain's fame!

One of the Chorus (BERENGAR).

Thus spoke within my bosom's core The thought--as. .h.i.therward I strayed; And pensive 'mid the waving store, I mused, of autumn's yellow glade:-- These gifts of nature's bounteous reign,-- The teeming earth, and golden grain, Yon elms, among whose leaves entwine The tendrils of the cl.u.s.tering vine;-- Gay children of our sunny clime,-- Region of spring's eternal prime!

Each charm should woo to love and joy, No cares the dream of bliss annoy, And pleasure through life's summer day Speed every laughing hour away.

We rage in blood,--oh, dire disgrace!

For this usurping, alien race; From some far distant land they came, Beyond the sun's departing flame.

And owned upon our friendly sh.o.r.e The welcome of our sires of yore.

Alas! their sons in thraldom pine, The va.s.sals of this stranger line.

A second (MANFRED).

Yes! pleased, on our land, from his azure way, The sun ever smiles with unclouded ray.

But never, fair isle, shall thy sons repose 'Mid the sweets which the faithless waves enclose.

On their bosom they wafted the corsair bold, With his dreaded barks to our coast of old.

For thee was thy dower of beauty vain, 'Twas the treasure that lured the spoiler's train.

Oh, ne'er from these smiling vales shall rise A sword for our vanquished liberties; 'Tis not where the laughing Ceres reigns, And the jocund lord of the flowery plains:-- Where the iron lies hid in the mountain cave, Is the cradle of empire--the home of the brave!

[The folding-doors at the back of the stage are thrown open.

DONNA ISABELLA appears between her sons, DON MANUEL and DON CAESAR.

Both Choruses (CAJETAN).

Lift high the notes of praise!

Behold! where lies the awakening sun, She comes, and from her queenly brow Shoots glad, inspiring rays.

Mistress, we bend to thee!

First Chorus.

Fair is the moon amid the starry choir That twinkle o'er the sky, Shining in silvery, mild tranquillity;-- The mother with her sons more fair!

See! blooming at her side, She leads the royal, youthful pair; With gentle grace, and soft, maternal pride, Attempering sweet their manly fire.

Second Chorus (BERENGAR).

From this fair stem a beauteous tree With ever-springing boughs shall smile, And with immortal verdure shade our isle; Mother of heroes, joy to thee!

Triumphant as the sun thy kingly race Shall spread from clime to clime, And give a deathless name to rolling time!

ISABELLA (comes forward with her SONS).

Look down! benignant Queen of Heaven, and still, This proud tumultuous heart, that in my breast Swells with a mother's tide of ecstasy, As blazoned in these n.o.ble youths, my image More perfect shows;--Oh, blissful hour! the first That comprehends the fulness of my joy, When long-constrained affection dares to pour In unison of transport from my heart, Unchecked, a parent's undivided love: Oh! it was ever one--my sons were twain.

Say--shall I revel in the dreams of bliss, And give my soul to Nature's dear emotions?

Is this warm pressure of thy brother's hand A dagger in thy breast?

[To DON MANUEL.

Or when my eyes Feed on that brow with love's enraptured gaze, Is it a wrong to thee?

[To DON CAESAR.

Trembling, I pause, Lest e'en affection's breath should wake the fires Of slumbering hate.

[After regarding both with inquiring looks Speak! In your secret hearts What purpose dwells? Is it the ancient feud Unreconciled, that in your father's halls A moment stilled; beyond the castle gates, Where sits infuriate war, and champs the bit-- Shall rage anew in mortal, b.l.o.o.d.y conflict?

Chorus (BOHEMUND).

Concord or strife--the fate's decree Is bosomed yet in dark futurity!

What comes, we little heed to know, Prepared for aught the hour may show!

ISABELLA (looking round).

What mean these arms? this warlike, dread array, That in the palace of your sires portends Some fearful issue? needs a mother's heart Outpoured, this rugged witness of her joys?

Say, in these folding arms shall treason hide The deadly snare? Oh, these rude, pitiless men, The ministers of your wrath!--trust not the show Of seeming friendship; treachery in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s Lurks to betray, and long-dissembled hate.

Ye are a race of other lands; your sires Profaned their soil; and ne'er the invader's yoke Was easy--never in the va.s.sal's heart Languished the hope of sweet revenge;--our sway Not rooted in a people's love, but owns Allegiance from their fears; with secret joy-- For conquest's ruthless sword, and thraldom's chains From age to age, they wait the atoning hour Of princes' downfall;--thus their bards awake The patriot strain, and thus from sire to son Rehea.r.s.ed, the old traditionary tale Beguiles the winter's night. False is the world, My sons, and light are all the specious ties By fancy twined: friendship--deceitful name!

Its gaudy flowers but deck our summer fortune, To wither at the first rude breath of autumn!

So happy to whom heaven has given a brother; The friend by nature signed--the true and steadfast!

Nature alone is honest--nature only-- When all we trusted strews the wintry sh.o.r.e-- On her eternal anchor lies at rest, Nor heeds the tempest's rage.

DON MANUEL.

My mother!

DON CAESAR.

Hear me

ISABELLA (taking their hands).

Be n.o.ble, and forget the fancied wrongs Of boyhood's age: more G.o.dlike is forgiveness Than victory, and in your father's grave Should sleep the ancient hate:--Oh, give your days Renewed henceforth to peace and holy love!

[She recedes one or two steps, as if to give them s.p.a.ce to approach each other. Both fix their eyes on the ground without regarding one another.

ISABELLA (after awaiting for some time, with suppressed emotion, a demonstration on the part of her sons).

I can no more; my prayers--my tears are vain:-- 'Tis well! obey the demon in your hearts!

Fulfil your dread intent, and stain with blood The holy altars of your household G.o.ds;-- These halls that gave you birth, the stage where murder Shall hold his festival of mutual carnage Beneath a mother's eye!--then, foot to foot, Close, like the Theban pair, with maddening gripe, And fold each other in a last embrace!

Each press with vengeful thrust the dagger home, And "Victory!" be your shriek of death:--nor then Shall discord rest appeased; the very flame That lights your funeral pyre shall tower dissevered In ruddy columns to the skies, and tell With horrid image--"thus they lived and died!"