Kitobni o'qish: «The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy»

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

ISABELLA, Princess of Messina.

DON MANUEL | her Sons.

DON CAESAR |

BEATRICE.

DIEGO, an ancient Servant.

MESSENGERS.

THE ELDERS OF MESSINA, mute.

THE CHORUS, consisting of the Followers of the two Princes.

SCENE I

A spacious hall, supported on columns, with entrances on both sides;

at the back of the stage a large folding-door leading to a chapel.

DONNA ISABELLA in mourning; the ELDERS OF MESSINA.

ISABELLA

 
   Forth from my silent chamber's deep recesses,
   Gray Fathers of the State, unwillingly
   I come; and, shrinking from your gaze, uplift
   The veil that shades my widowed brows: the light
   And glory of my days is fled forever!
   And best in solitude and kindred gloom
   To hide these sable weeds, this grief-worn frame,
   Beseems the mourner's heart. A mighty voice
   Inexorable – duty's stern command,
   Calls me to light again.
                Not twice the moon
   Has filled her orb since to the tomb ye bore
   My princely spouse, your city's lord, whose arm
   Against a world of envious foes around
   Hurled fierce defiance! Still his spirit lives
   In his heroic sons, their country's pride:
   Ye marked how sweetly from their childhood's bloom
   They grew in joyous promise to the years
   Of manhood's strength; yet in their secret hearts,
   From some mysterious root accursed, upsprung
   Unmitigable, deadly hate, that spurned
   All kindred ties, all youthful, fond affections,
   Still ripening with their thoughtful age; not mine
   The sweet accord of family bliss; though each
   Awoke a mother's rapture; each alike
   Smiled at my nourishing breast! for me alone
   Yet lives one mutual thought, of children's love;
   In these tempestuous souls discovered else
   By mortal strife and thirst of fierce revenge.
 
 
   While yet their father reigned, his stern control
   Tamed their hot spirits, and with iron yoke
   To awful justice bowed their stubborn will:
   Obedient to his voice, to outward seeming
   They calmed their wrathful mood, nor in array
   Ere met, of hostile arms; yet unappeased
   Sat brooding malice in their bosoms' depths;
   They little reek of hidden springs whose power
   Can quell the torrent's fury: scarce their sire
   In death had closed his eyes, when, as the spark
   That long in smouldering embers sullen lay,
   Shoots forth a towering flame; so unconfined
   Burst the wild storm of brothers' hate triumphant
   O'er nature's holiest bands. Ye saw, my friends,
   Your country's bleeding wounds, when princely strife
   Woke discord's maddening fires, and ranged her sons
   In mutual deadly conflict; all around
   Was heard the clash of arms, the din of carnage,
   And e'en these halls were stained with kindred gore.
 
 
   Torn was the state with civil rage, this heart
   With pangs that mothers feel; alas, unmindful
   Of aught but public woes, and pitiless
   You sought my widow's chamber – there with taunts
   And fierce reproaches for your country's ills
   From that polluted spring of brother's hate
   Derived, invoked a parent's warning voice,
   And threatening told of people's discontent
   And princes' crimes! "Ill-fated land! now wasted
   By thy unnatural sons, ere long the prey
   Of foeman's sword! Oh, haste," you cried, "and end
   This strife! bring peace again, or soon Messina
   Shall bow to other lords." Your stern decree
   Prevailed; this heart, with all a mother's anguish
   O'erlabored, owned the weight of public cares.
   I flew, and at my children's feet, distracted,
   A suppliant lay; till to my prayers and tears
   The voice of nature answered in their breasts!
 
 
   Here in the palace of their sires, unarmed,
   In peaceful guise Messina shall behold
   The long inveterate foes; this is the day!
   E'en now I wait the messenger that brings
   The tidings of my sons' approach: be ready
   To give your princes joyful welcome home
   With reverence such as vassals may beseem.
   Bethink ye to fulfil your subject duties,
   And leave to better wisdom weightier cares.
   Dire was their strife to them, and to the State
   Fruitful of ills; yet, in this happy bond
   Of peace united, know that they are mighty
   To stand against a world in arms, nor less
   Enforce their sovereign will against yourselves.
 

[The ELDERS retire in silence; she beckons to an old attendant, who remains.

 
               Diego!
 

DIEGO

 
                   Honored mistress!
 

ISABELLA

 
   Old faithful servant, then true heart, come near me;
   Sharer of all a mother's woes, be thine
   The sweet communion of her joys: my treasure
   Shrined in thy heart, my dear and holy secret
   Shall pierce the envious veil, and shine triumphant
   To cheerful day; too long by harsh decrees,
   Silent and overpowered, affection yet
   Shall utterance find in Nature's tones of rapture!
   And this imprisoned heart leap to the embrace
   Of all it holds most dear, returned to glad
   My desolate halls;
             So bend thy aged steps
   To the old cloistered sanctuary that guards
   The darling of my soul, whose innocence
   To thy true love (sweet pledge of happier days)!
   Trusting I gave, and asked from fortune's storm
   A resting place and shrine. Oh, in this hour
   Of bliss; the dear reward of all thy cares.
   Give to my longing arms my child again!
 

[Trumpets are heard in the distance.

 
   Haste! be thy footsteps winged with joy – I hear
   The trumpet's blast, that tells in warlike accents
   My sons are near:
 

[Exit DIEGO. Music is heard in an opposite direction, and becomes gradually louder.

 
             Messina is awake!
   Hark! how the stream of tongues hoarse murmuring
   Rolls on the breeze, – 'tis they! my mother's heart
   Feels their approach, and beats with mighty throes
   Responsive to the loud, resounding march!
   They come! they come! my children! oh, my children!
 

[Exit.

The CHORUS enters.

(It consists of two semi-choruses which enter at the same time from opposite sides, and after marching round the stage range themselves in rows, each on the side by which it entered. One semi-chorus consists of young knights, the other of older ones, each has its peculiar costume and ensigns. When the two choruses stand opposite to each other, the march ceases, and the two leaders speak.)

[The first chorus consists of Cajetan, Berengar, Manfred, Tristan, and eight followers of Don Manuel. The second of Bohemund, Roger, Hippolyte, and nine others of the party of Don Caesar.

First Chorus (CAJETAN)

 
      I greet ye, glittering halls
       Of olden time
      Cradle of kings! Hail! lordly roof,
       In pillared majesty sublime!
 
 
         Sheathed be the sword!
       In chains before the portal lies
      The fiend with tresses snake-entwined,
       Fell Discord! Gently treat the inviolate floor!
         Peace to this royal dome!
       Thus by the Furies' brood we swore,
      And all the dark, avenging Deities!
 

Second Chorus (BOHEMUND)

 
      I rage! I burn! and scarce refrain
       To lift the glittering steel on high,
      For, lo! the Gorgon-visaged train
       Of the detested foeman nigh:
      Shall I my swelling heart control?
       To parley deign – or still in mortal strife
      The tumult of my soul?
      Dire sister, guardian of the spot, to thee
      Awe-struck I bend the knee,
      Nor dare with arms profane thy deep tranquillity!
 

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 vassal 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 hitherward 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 clustering 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 shore
      The welcome of our sires of yore.
      Alas! their sons in thraldom pine,
      The vassals 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 noble 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, bloody 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 breasts
   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 vassal'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
   Rehearsed, 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 shore —
   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 noble, and forget the fancied wrongs
   Of boyhood's age: more godlike 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 space 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 gods; —
   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!"
 

[She goes away; the BROTHERS stand as before.

Chorus (CAJETAN)

 
      How have her words with soft control
      Resistless calmed the tempest of my soul!
       No guilt of kindred blood be mine!
      Thus with uplifted hands I prey;
      Think, brothers, on the awful day,
       And tremble at the wrath divine!
 

DON CAESAR (without taking his eyes from the ground)

 
   Thou art my elder – speak – without dishonor
   I yield to thee.
 

DON MANUEL

 
            One gracious word, an instant,
   My tongue is rival in the strife of love!
 

DON CAESAR

 
   I am the guiltier – weaker —
 

DON MANUEL

 
                  Say not so!
   Who doubts thy noble heart, knows thee not well;
   The words were prouder, if thy soul were mean.
 

DON CAESAR

 
   It burns indignant at the thought of wrong —
   But thou – methinks – in passion's fiercest mood,
   'Twas aught but scorn that harbored in thy breast.
 

DON MANUEL

 
   Oh! had I known thy spirit thus to peace
   Inclined, what thousand griefs had never torn
   A mother's heart!
 

DON CAESAR

 
             I find thee just and true:
   Men spoke thee proud of soul.
 

DON MANUEL

 
                   The curse of greatness!
   Ears ever open to the babbler's tale.
 

DON CAESAR

 
   Thou art too proud to meanness – I to falsehood!
 

DON MANUEL

 
   We are deceived, betrayed!
 

DON CAESAR

 
                 The sport of frenzy!
 

DON MANUEL

 
   And said my mother true, false is the world?
 

DON CAESAR

 
   Believe her, false as air.
 

DON MANUEL

 
                 Give me thy hand!
 

DON CAESAR

 
   And thine be ever next my heart!
 

[They stand clasping each other's hands, and regard each other in silence.

DON MANUEL

 
                    I gaze
   Upon thy brow, and still behold my mother
   In some dear lineament.
 

DON CAESAR

 
                Her image looks
   From thine, and wondrous in my bosom wakes
   Affection's springs.
 

DON MANUEL

 
              And is it thou? – that smile
   Benignant on thy face? – thy lips that charm
   With gracious sounds of love and dear forgiveness?
 

DON CAESAR

 
   Is this my brother, this the hated foe?
   His mien all gentleness and truth, his voice,
   Whose soft prevailing accents breathe of friendship!
 

[After a pause.

DON MANUEL

 
   Shall aught divide us?
 

DON CAESAR

 
               We are one forever!
 

[They rush into each other's arms.

First CHORUS (to the Second)

 
      Why stand we thus, and coldly gaze,
       While Nature's holy transports burn?
      No dear embrace of happier days
       The pledge – that discord never shall return!
      Brothers are they by kindred band;
      We own the ties of home and native land.
 

[Both CHORUSES embrace.

A MESSENGER enters.

Second CHORUS to DON CAESAR (BOHEMUND)

 
   Rejoice, my prince, thy messenger returns
   And mark that beaming smile! the harbinger
   Of happy tidings.
 

MESSENGER

 
             Health to me, and health
   To this delivered state! Oh sight of bliss,
   That lights mine eyes with rapture! I behold
   Their hands in sweet accord entwined; the sons
   Of my departed lord, the princely pair
   Dissevered late by conflict's hottest rage.
 

DON CAESAR

 
   Yes, from the flames of hate, a new-born Phoenix,
   Our love aspires!
 

MESSENGER

 
             I bring another joy;
   My staff is green with flourishing shoots.
   DON CAESAR (taking him aside).
                         Oh, tell me
   Thy gladsome message.
 

MESSENGER

 
               All is happiness
   On this auspicious day; long sought, the lost one
   Is found.
 

DON CAESAR

 
         Discovered! Oh, where is she? Speak!
 

MESSENGER

 
   Within Messina's walls she lies concealed.
 

DON MANUEL (turning to the First SEMI-CHORUS)

 
   A ruddy glow mounts in my brother's cheek,
   And pleasure dances in his sparkling eye;
   Whate'er the spring, with sympathy of love
   My inmost heart partakes his joy.
 

DON CAESAR (to the MESSENGER)

 
                     Come, lead me;
   Farewell, Don Manuel; to meet again
   Enfolded in a mother's arms! I fly
   To cares of utmost need.
 

[He is about to depart.

DON MANUEL

 
                Make no delay;
   And happiness attend thee!
 

DON CAESAR (after a pause of reflection, he returns)

 
                 How thy looks
   Awake my soul to transport! Yes, my brother,
   We shall be friends indeed! This hour is bright
   With glad presage of ever-springing love,
   That in the enlivening beam shall flourish fair,
   Sweet recompense of wasted years!
 

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 CESAR

 
                 What calls me hence —
 

DON MANUEL

 
   Enough! thou leav'st thy heart.
 

DON CAESAR

 
                    No envious secret