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

Of everlasting night? See where he stands —
Angel of life! – and wondrous beautiful,
Shakes from his plenteous horn the fragrant store
Of golden fruits and flowers, that breathe around
Divinest airs of joy; – my heart awakes
In the warm sunbeam – hope returns, and life
Thrills in my breast anew.

ISABELLA (to BEATRICE)

Thou wilt prevail!
Or none! Implore him that he live, nor rob
The staff and comfort of our days.

BEATRICE

The loved one
A sacrifice demands. Oh, let me die
To soothe a brother's shade! Yes, I will be
The victim! Ere I saw the light forewarned
To death, I live a wrong to heaven! The curse
Pursues me still: 'twas I that slew thy son —
I waked the slumbering furies of their strife —
Be mine the atoning blood!

CAJETAN

Ill-fated mother!
Impatient all thy children haste to doom,
And leave thee on the desolate waste alone
Of joyous life.

BEATRICE

Oh, spare thy precious days
For nature's band. Thy mother needs a son;
My brother, live for her! Light were the pang
To lose a daughter – but a moment shown,
Then snatched away!

DON CAESAR (with deep emotion)

'Tis one to live or die,
Blest with a sister's love!

BEATRICE

Say, dost thou envy
Thy brother's ashes?

DON CAESAR

In thy grief he lives
A hallowed life! – my doom is death forever!

BEATRICE

My brother!

DON CAESAR

Sister! are thy tears for me?

BEATRICE

Live for our mother!

DON CAESAR (dropping her hand, and stepping back)

For our mother?

BEATRICE (hiding her head in his breast)

Live
For her and for thy sister!

Chorus (BOHEMUND)

She has won!
Resistless are her prayers. Despairing mother,
Awake to hope again – his choice is made!
Thy son shall live!

[At this moment an anthem is heard. The folding doors are thrown open, and in the church is seen the catafalque erected, and the coffin surrounded with candlesticks.

DON CAESAR (turning to the coffin)

I will not rob thee, brother!
The sacrifice is thine: – Hark! from the tomb,
Mightier than mother's tears, or sister's love,
Thy voice resistless cries: – my arms enfold
A treasure, potent with celestial joys,
To deck this earthly sphere, and make a lot
Worthy the gods! but shall I live in bliss,
While in the tomb thy sainted innocence
Sleeps unavenged? Thou, Ruler of our days,
All just – all wise – let not the world behold
Thy partial care! I saw her tears! – enough —
They flowed for me! I am content: my brother!
I come!