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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!

Chorus (CAJETAN).

Already

Our hearts, my prince, with silent vows have blessed

Thy happy love; and now from every tongue,

For her-the royal, beauteous bride-should sound

The glad acclaim; so tell what nook unseen,

What deep umbrageous solitude, enshrines

The charmer of thy heart? With magic spells

Almost I deem she mocks our gaze, for oft

In eager chase we scour each rustic path

And forest dell; yet not a trace betrayed

The lover's haunts, ne'er were the footsteps marked

Of this mysterious fair.

DON MANUEL.

The spell is broke!

And all shall be revealed: now list my tale:-

'Tis five months flown,-my father yet controlled

The land, and bowed our necks with iron sway;

Little I knew but the wild joys of arms,

And mimic warfare of the chase;-

One day,-

Long had we tracked the boar with zealous toil

On yonder woody ridge:-it chanced, pursuing

A snow-white hind, far from your train I roved

Amid the forest maze;-the timid beast,

Along the windings of the narrow vale,

Through rocky cleft and thick-entangled brake,

Flew onward, scarce a moment lost, nor distant

Beyond a javelin's throw; nearer I came not,

Nor took an aim; when through a garden's gate,

Sudden she vanished:-from my horse quick springing,

I followed:-lo! the poor scared creature lay

Stretched at the feet of a young, beauteous nun,

That strove with fond caress of her fair hands

To still its throbbing heart: wondering, I gazed;

And motionless-my spear, in act to strike,

High poised-while she, with her large piteous eyes

For mercy sued-and thus we stood in silence

Regarding one another.

How long the pause

I know not-time itself forgot;-it seemed

Eternity of bliss: her glance of sweetness

Flew to my soul; and quick the subtle flame

Pervaded all my heart:-

But what I spoke,

And how this blessed creature answered, none

May ask; it floats upon my thought, a dream

Of childhood's happy dawn! Soon as my sense

Returned, I felt her bosom throb responsive

To mine,-then fell melodious on my ear

The sound, as of a convent bell, that called

To vesper song; and, like some shadowy vision

That melts in air, she flitted from my sight,

And was beheld no more.

Chorus (CAJETAN).

Thy story thrills

My breast with pious awe! Prince, thou hast robbed

The sanctuary, and for the bride of heaven

Burned with unholy passion! Oh, remember

The cloister's sacred vows!

DON MANUEL.

Thenceforth one path

My footsteps wooed; the fickle train was still

Of young desires-new felt my being's aim,

My soul revealed! and as the pilgrim turns

His wistful gaze, where, from the orient sky,

With gracious lustre beams Redemption's star;-

So to that brightest point of heaven, her presence,

My hopes and longings centred all. No sun

Sank in the western waves, but smiled farewell

To two united lovers:-thus in stillness

Our hearts were twined,-the all-seeing air above us

Alone the faithful witness of our joys!

Oh, golden hours! Oh, happy days! nor Heaven

Indignant viewed our bliss;-no vows enchained

Her spotless soul; naught but the link which bound it

Eternally to mine!

Chorus (CAJETAN).

Those hallowed walls,

Perchance the calm retreat of tender youth,

No living grave?

DON MANUEL.

In infant innocence

Consigned a holy pledge, ne'er has she left

Her cloistered home.

Chorus (CAJETAN).

But what her royal line?

The noble only spring from noble stem.

DON MANUEL.

A secret to herself,-she ne'er has learned

Her name or fatherland.

Chorus (CAJETAN).

And not a trace

Guides to her being's undiscovered springs?

DON MANUEL.

An old domestic, the sole messenger