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Thus to thy thought,
My mother, I have waked the scene anew,
And say, if aught of passion in my breast
Profaned the solemn hour; yet then the beams
Of mighty love–so willed my guiding star–
First lit my soul; but how it chanced, myself
I ask in vain.

ISABELLA.

I would hear all; so end
Thy tale.

DON CAESAR.

What brought her to my side, or whence
She came, I know not:–from her presence quick
Some secret all-pervading inward charm
Awoke; ’twas not the magic of a smile,
Nor playful Cupid in her cheeks, nor more,
The form of peerless grace;–’twas beauty’s soul,
The speaking virtue, modesty inborn,
That as with magic spells, impalpable
To sense, my being thralled. We breathed together
The air of heaven:–enough!–no utterance asked
Of words, our spiritual converse;–in my heart,
Though strange, yet with familiar ties inwrought
She seemed, and instant spake the thought–’tis she!
Or none that lives!

DON MANUEL

(interposing with eagerness).

That is the sacred fire
From heaven! the spark of love–that on the soul
Bursts like the lightning’s flash, and mounts in flame,
When kindred bosoms meet! No choice remains–
Who shall resist? What mortal break the band
That heaven has knit? Brother, my blissful fortune
Was echoed in thy tale–well thou hast raised
The veil that shadows yet my secret love.

ISABELLA.

Thus destiny has marked the wayward course
Of my two sons: the mighty torrent sweeps
Down from the precipice; with rage he wears
His proper bed, nor heeds the channel traced
By art and prudent care. So to the powers
That darkly sway the fortunes of our house,
Trembling I yield. One pledge of hope remains;
Great as their birth–their noble souls.

Chorus, CAJETAN

(after a deep silence).
In dread amaze I stand, nor know
If I should mourn his fate. One truth revealed
Speaks in my breast;–no good supreme is life;
But all of earthly ills the chief is–Guilt!