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Updated: May 3, 2025
My mother! at my feet he fell! I know not What brought me hither yet 'tis well. Oh, bliss! That I am safe in thy protecting arms; They would have ta'en me to the princess, mother Sooner to death! ISABELLA. My daughter, calm thy fears; Messina's princess BEATRICE. Name her not again! At that ill-omened sound the chill of death Creeps through my trembling frame. ISABELLA. My child! but hear me
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.
Yes! gentle humbleness is beauty's crown The beautiful forever hid, and shrinking From its own lustre: but thy spirit needs Repose, for aught of strange e'en sudden joy Is terror-fraught. I leave thee. From this hour She is your mistress, and my bride; so teach her With honors due to entertain the pomp Of queenly state. I will return with speed, And lead her home as fits Messina's princess.
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. 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. What troubles thee? Thou know'st me, thou hast found, In the poor stranger knight, Messina's prince! BEATRICE. Give me the dear unknown again! With him On earth's remotest wilds I could be blest! Away! What rabble throng is here? BEATRICE. That voice! Oh heavens! Where shall I fly! DON MANUEL. Know'st thou that voice? No! thou hast never heard it; to thine ear 'Tis strange
BEATRICE. She has two sons by mortal hate dissevered, Don Manuel and Don Caesar ISABELLA. 'Tis myself! Behold thy mother! BEATRICE. Have I heard thee? Speak! ISABELLA. I am thy mother, and Messina's princess! BEATRICE. Art thou Don Manuel's and Don Caesar's mother? ISABELLA. And thine! They are thy brethren whom thou namest. BEATRICE. Oh, gleam of horrid light! ISABELLA. What troubles thee?
I have lost a mother For thee! DON MANUEL. Console thyself, Messina's princess Henceforth shall call thee daughter; to her feet I lead thee; come she waits. What hast thou said? BEATRICE. Thy mother and Don Caesar's? Never! never! DON MANUEL. Thou shudderest! Whence this horror? Hast thou known My mother? Speak BEATRICE. O grief! O dire misfortune! Alas! that e'er I live to see this day!
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