THE VESPERS OF PALERMO.

I come to ask your aid. You see me, one
Whose widow'd youth hath all been consecrate
To a proud sorrow, and whose life is held
In token and memorial of the dead.
Say, is it meet that lingering thus on earth,
But to behold one great atonement made,
And keep one name from fading in men's hearts,
A tyrant's will should force me to profane
Heaven's altar with unhallow'd vows-and live
Stung by the keen unutterable scorn

Of my own bosom, live-another's bride?

Sicilians. Never, oh, never!—fear not, noble lady! Worthy of Conradin !

Vit.

Yet hear me still,

His bride, that Eribert's, who notes our tears

With his insulting eye of cold derision,

And, could he pierce the depths where feeling works,
Would number e'en our agonies as crimes,

-Say, is this meet?

Gui.

Thy willing choice;
Thou art noble still.
This shall not be.

Pro.

We deem'd these nuptials, lady
but 'tis a joy to find

Fear not; by all our wrongs,

Vittoria, thou art come

To ask our aid-but we have need of thine.
Know, the completion of our high designs
Requires a festival; and it must be

Thy bridal!

Vit.

Pro.

Procida!

Nay, start not thus,

"Tis no hard task to bind your raven hair
With festal garlands, and to bid the song
Rise, and the wine-cup mantle. No-nor yet
To meet your suitor at the glitt'ring shrine,
Where death, not love, awaits him

Vit.

Dissemble thus?

Pro.

Can my soul

We have no other means

Of winning our great birthright back from those
Who have usurp'd it, than so lulling them
Into vain confidence, that they may deem
All wrongs forgot; and this may be best done
By what I ask of thee.

Mon.

With the flush'd revellers, making their gay feas

Then we will mix

A bridal day!

The harvest of the grave.

Vit.

-Must it be so ?-Then, chiefs of Sicily,

I bid you to my nuptials! but be there

With your bright swords unsheathed, for thus alone
My guests should be adorn'd.

Pro.

And let thy banquet

29

Be soon announced, for there are noble men
Sentenced to die, for whom we fain would purchase
Reprieve with other blood.

Vit.
Be it then the day
Preceeding that appointed for their doom.

Gui. My brother, thou shalt live!-Oppression boasts
No gift of prophecy!-It but remains

To name our signal, chiefs!

Mon.

The Vesper-bell!

Pro. Even so the Vesper-bell, whose deep-toned peal Is heard o'er land and wave. Part of our band,

Wearing the guise of antic revelry,

Shall enter, as in some fantastic pageant,
The halls of Eribert; and at the hour
Devoted to the sword's tremendous task,
I follow with the rest.-The Vesper-bell!

That sound shall wake th' avenger; for 'tis come,
The time when power is in a voice, a breath,

To burst the spell which bound us. But the night

Is waning, with her stars, which, one by one

Warn us to part. Friends, to your homes!-your homes? That name is yet to win.-Away, prepare

For our next meeting in Palermo's walls.

The Vesper-bell! Remember!

Sicilians.

The Vesper-bell!

Fear us not.

[Exeunt omnes

ACT III.

SCENE 1.-Apartment in a Fance.

ERIBERT, VITTORIA.

Vit. Speak not of love-it is a word with deep Strange magic in is melancholy sound,

To summon up the dead; and they should rest,

At such an hour, forgotten. There are things

We must throw from us, when the heart would gather
Strength to fulfil its settled purposes;

Therefore, no more of love!-But, if to robe
This form in bridal ornaments-to smile
(I can smile yet) at thy gay feast, and stand
At th' altar by thy side;-if this be deem'd
Enough, it shall be done.

Eri.

My fortune's star

Doth rule th' ascendant still! (Apart.)-If not of love,
Then pardon, lady, that I speak of joy,

And with exulting heart

Vit.

There is no joy!

-Who shall look through the far futurity,
And, as the shadowy visions of events

Develop on his gaze, 'midst their dim throng,
Dare, with oracular mien, to point, and say,

THE VESPERS OF PALERMO.

"This will bring happiness?"-Who shall do this?
-Who, thou and I, and all!-There's One, who sits
In His own bright tranquillity enthroned,
High o'er all storms, and looking far beyond
Their thickest clouds; but we, from whose dull eyes
A grain of dust hides the great sun-e'n we
Usurp his attributes, and talk, as secrs,

Of future joy and grief!

Eri.
Thy words are strange.
Yet will I hope that peace at length shall settle
Upon thy troubled heart, and add soft grace
To thy majestic beauty.-Fair Vittoria!
Oh! if my cares-

Vit.
I know a day shall come
Of peace to all. Ev'n from my darken'd spirit.
Soon shall each restless wish be exorcised,
Which haunts it now, and I shall then lie down.
Serenely to repose. Of this no more.

I have a boon to ask.

Eri.

Command my power, And deem it thus most honor'd. Vit. Have I then Soar'd such an eagle pitch, as to command The mighty Eribert ?-And yet 'tis meet; For I bethink me now, I should have worn A crown upon this forehead. Generous lord! Since thus you give me freedom, know, there is An hour I have loved from childhood, and a sound Whose tones, o'er earth and ocean sweetly bearing A sense of deep repose, have lull'd me oft To peace-which is forgetfulness; I mean The Vesper-bell. I pray you let it be The summons to our bridal-Hear you not? 'To our fair bridal!

Appoint each circumstance. I am too bless'd,
Proving my homage thus.

Vit.

Why, then, 'tis mine
To rule the glorious fortunes of the day,
And I may be content. Yet much remains
For thought to brood on, and I would be left
Alone with my resolves. Kind Eribert!
(Whom I command so absolutely,) now

Part we a few brief hours; and doubt not, when
I'm at thy side once more, but I shall stand
There-to the last!

Eri.

Your smiles are troubled, ladyMay they e'er long be brighter! Time will seem Slow till the Vesper-bell.

"Tis lover's phrase

Vit.
To say-Time lags; and therefore meet for you:
But with an equal pace the hour moves on,

Whether they bear, on their swift silent wing,

Pleasure or fate,

Eri.

Be not so full of thought

On such a day,-Behold, the skies themselves
Look on my joy with a triumphant smile

Unshadow'd by a cloud.

Vit.

'Tis very meet

That Heaven (which loves the just) should wear a smile
In honor of his fortunes.-Now, my lord,

Forgive me if I say, farewell until

Th' appointed hour.

Eri.

Lady a brief farewell. [Exeunt separately.

SCENE II.-The Seashore.

PROCIDA, RAIMOND.

Pro. And dost thou still refuse to share the glory Of this, our daring enterprise?

Raim.

Oh, father!

I, too, have dreamt of glory, and the word,

Hath to my soul been as a trumpet's voice,
Making my nature sleepless -But the deeds

Whereby 'twas won-the high exploits, whose tale
Bids the heart burn, were of another cast

Than such as thou requirest.

Pro.

Every deed

Hath sanctity, if bearing for its aim

The freedom of our country; and the sword

Alike is honor'd in the patriot's hand,

Searching 'midst warrior-hosts, the heart which gave
Oppression birth; or flashing through the gloom
Of the still chamber, o'er its troubled couch,

At dead of night.

Raim. (turning away.) There is no path but one For noble natures.

Pro.

Wouldst thou ask the man

Who to the earth hath dash'd a nation's chains,
Rent as with Heaven's own lightning, by what means
The glorious end was won!-Go, swell th' acclaim :
Bid the deliverer, hail! and if his path

To that most bright and sovereign destiny

Hath led o'er trampled thousands, be it call'd

A stern necessity but not a crime!

Raim. Father! my soul yet kindles at the thought

Of nobler lessons, in my boyhood learn'd

Ev'n from thy voice.-The high remembrances

Of other days are stirring in the heart

Where thou didst plant them; and they speak of men
Who needed no vain sophistry to gild

Acts that would bear Heaven's light-and such be mine!
Oh, father! is it yet too late to draw

The praise and blessing of all valiant hearts

THE VESPERS OF PALERMO.

On our most righteous cause?

Pro.
What wouldst thou do?
Raim. I would go forth, and rouse th' indignant land
To generous combat. Why should freedom strike
Mantled with darkness?-Is there not more strength
Ev'n in the waving of her single arm

Than hosts can wield against her!-I would rouse
That spirit, whose fire doth press resistless
To its proud sphere-the stormy field of fight!
Pro. Ay! and give time and warning to the foe
To gather all his might:-It is too late.

There is a work to be this eve begun,

When rings the Vesper-bell and, long before
To-morrow's sun hath reach'd i' th' noonday heaven
His throne of burning glory, every sound

Of the Provençal tongue within our walls,

As by one thunderstroke-(you are pale my son)—
Shall be forever silenced!

Raim.
What! such sounds
As falter on the lip of infancy,
In its imperfect utterance? or are breathed
By the fond mother, as she lulls her babe?
Or in sweet hymns, upon the twilight air
Pour'd by the timid maid ?-Must all alike
Be still'd in death; and wouldst thou tell my heart
There is no crime in this?

Since thou dost feel

Pro.
Such horror of our purpose, in thy power

Are means that might avert it.

Raim.

Speak! oh speak!

Pro. How would those rescued thousands bless thy name, Shouldst thou betray us!

Raim.
Father! I can bear-
Ay, proudly woo-the keenest questioning
Of thy soul-gifted eye; which almost seems
To claim a part of Heaven's dread royalty,
-The power that searches thought.

Pro. (after a pause.)

Thou hast a brow

Clear as the day-and yet I doubt thee, Raimond!
Whether it be that I have learn'd distrust

From a long look through man's deep-folded heart;
Whether my paths have been so seldom cross'd
By honor and fair mercy, that they seem
But beautiful deceptions, meeting thus
My unaccustom'd gaze ;-howe'er it be-
I doubt thee!-See thou waver not-take heed.
Time lifts the veil from all things!

Raim.
And 'tis thus
Youth fades from off our spirit; and the robes
Of beauty and of majesty, wherewith
We clothed our idols, drop !-Oh! bitter day,
When, at the crushing of our glorious world,

[Exit PROCIDA.