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DON MANUEL.

The blossom
Betokens goodly fruit.

DON CAESAR.

I tear myself
Reluctant from thy arms, but think not less
If thus I break this festal hour–my heart
Thrills with a holy joy.

DON MANUEL

(with manifest absence of mind).
Obey the moment!
Our lives belong to love.

DON CAESAR.

What calls me hence—-

DON MANUEL.

Enough! thou leav’st thy heart.

DON CAESAR.

No envious secret
Shall part us long; soon the last darkening fold
Shall vanish from my breast.

[Turning to the CHORUS.]

Attend! Forever
Stilled is our strife; he is my deadliest foe,
Detested as the gates of hell, who dares
To blow the fires of discord; none may hope
To win my love, that with malicious tales
Encroach upon a brother’s ear, and point
With busy zeal of false, officious friendship.
The dart of some rash, angry word, escaped
From passion’s heat; it wounds not from the lips,
But, swallowed by suspicion’s greedy ear,
Like a rank, poisonous weed, embittered creeps,
And hangs about her with a thousand shoots,
Perplexing nature’s ties.

[He embraces his brother again, and goes away
accompanied by the Second CHORUS.]

Chorus

(CAJETAN).
Wondering, my prince,
I gaze, for in thy looks some mystery
Strange-seeming shows: scarce with abstracted mien
And cold thou answered’st, when with earnest heart
Thy brother poured the strain of dear affection.
As in a dream thou stand’st, and lost in thought,
As though–dissevered from its earthly frame–
Thy spirit roved afar. Not thine the breast
That deaf to nature’s voice, ne’er owned the throbs
Of kindred love:–nay more–like one entranced
In bliss, thou look’st around, and smiles of rapture
Play on thy cheek.

DON MANUEL.

How shall my lips declare
The transports of my swelling heart? My brother
Revels in glad surprise, and from his breast
Instinct with strange new-felt emotions, pours
The tide of joy; but mine–no hate came with me,
Forgot the very spring of mutual strife!
High o’er this earthly sphere, on rapture’s wings,
My spirit floats; and in the azure sea,
Above–beneath–no track of envious night
Disturbs the deep serene! I view these halls,
And picture to my thoughts the timid joy
Of my sweet bride, as through the palace gates,
In pride of queenly state, I lead her home.
She loved alone the loving one, the stranger,
And little deems that on her beauteous brow
Messina’s prince shall ‘twine the nuptial wreath.
How sweet, with unexpected pomp of greatness,
To glad the darling of my soul! too long
I brook this dull delay of crowning bliss!
Her beauty’s self, that asks no borrowed charm,
Shall shine refulgent, like the diamond’s blaze
That wins new lustre from the circling gold!

Chorus

(CAJETAN).
Long have I marked thee, prince, with curious eye,
Foreboding of some mystery deep enshrined
Within thy laboring breast. This day, impatient,
Thy lips have burst the seal; and unconstrained
Confess a lover’s joy;–the gladdening chase,
The Olympian coursers, and the falcon’s flight
Can charm no more:–soon as the sun declines
Beneath the ruddy west, thou hiest thee quick
To some sequestered path, of mortal eye
Unseen–not one of all our faithful train
Companion of thy solitary way.
Say, why so long concealed the blissful flame?
Stranger to fear–ill-brooked thy princely heart
One thought unuttered.

DON MANUEL.

Ever on the wing
Is mortal joy;–with silence best we guard
The fickle good;–but now, so near the goal
Of all my cherished hopes, I dare to speak.
To-morrow’s sun shall see her mine! no power
Of hell can make us twain! With timid stealth
No longer will I creep at dusky eve,
To taste the golden fruits of Cupid’s tree,
And snatch a fearful, fleeting bliss: to-day
With bright to-morrow shall be one! So smooth
As runs the limpid brook, or silvery sand
That marks the flight of time, our lives shall flow
In continuity of joy!