The Poems of Felicia Hemans
Doth rush in warmer currents through my veins,
As a bright fountain from its icy bonds
By the quick sun-stroke freed.
_Pro._ Ay, this is well!
Such natures burst men’s chains!--Now follow me.
[_Exeunt._
ACT II.
Scene I.--_Apartment in a Palace._
Eribert, Constance.
_Con._ Will you not hear me? Oh! that they who need
Hourly forgiveness--they who do but live
While mercy’s voice, beyond th’ eternal stars,
Wins the great Judge to listen, should be thus,
In their vain exercise of pageant power,
Hard and relentless! Gentle brother! yet
’Tis in your choice to imitate that heaven,
Whose noblest joy is pardon.
_Eri._ ’Tis too late.
You have a soft and moving voice, which pleads
With eloquent melody--but they must die.
_Con._ What!--die!--for words?--for breath which leaves no trace
To sully the pure air wherewith it blends,
And is, being utter’d, gone? Why, ’twere enough
For such a venial fault to be deprived
One little day of man’s free heritage,
Heaven’s warm and sunny light! Oh! if you deem
That evil harbours in their souls, at least
Delay the stroke, till guilt, made manifest,
Shall bid stem justice wake.
_Eri._ I am not one
Of those weak spirits that timorously keep watch
For fair occasions, thence to borrow hues
Of virtue for their deeds. My school hath been
Where power sits crown’d and arm’d. And, mark me, sister!
To a distrustful nature it might seem
Strange, that your lips thus earnestly should plead
For these Sicilian rebels. O’er _my_ being
Suspicion holds no power. And yet, take note--
I have said, and they must die.
_Con._ Have you no fear?
_Eri._ Of what?--that heaven should fall?
_Con._ No!--But that earth
Should arm in madness. Brother! I have seen
Dark eyes bent on you, e’en midst festal throngs,
With such deep hatred settled in their glance,
My heart hath died within me.
_Eri._ Am I then
To pause, and doubt, and shrink, because a girl,
A dreaming girl, hath trembled at a look?
_Con._ Oh! looks are no illusions, when the soul,
Which may not speak in words, can find no way
But theirs to liberty! Have not these men
Brave sons or noble brothers?
_Eri._ Yes! whose name
It rests with me to make a word of fear--
A sound forbidden midst the haunts of men.
_Con._ But not forgotten! Ah! beware, beware!
--Nay, look not sternly on me. There is one
Of that devoted band, who yet will need
Years to be ripe for death. He is a youth,
A very boy, on whose unshaded cheek
The spring-time glow is lingering. ’Twas but now
His mother left me, with a timid hope
Just dawning in her breast: and I--I dared
To foster its faint spark. You smile!--Oh! then
He will be saved!
_Eri._ Nay, I but smiled to think
What a fond fool is Hope! She may be taught
To deem that the great sun will change his course
To work her pleasure, or the tomb give back
Its inmates to her arms. In sooth, ’tis strange!
Yet, with your pitying heart, you should not thus
Have mock’d the boy’s sad mother: I have said--
You should not thus have _mock’d_ her!--Now, farewell!
[_Exit_ Eribert.
_Con._ O brother! hard of heart!--for deeds like these
There must be fearful chastening, if on high
Justice doth hold her state. And I must tell
Yon desolate mother that her fair young son
Is thus to perish! Haply the dread tale
May slay _her_ too--for heaven is merciful.
--’Twill be a bitter task!
[_Exit_ Constance.
Scene II.--_A ruined Tower surrounded by woods._
Procida, Vittoria.
_Pro._ Thy vassals are prepared, then?
_Vit._ Yes; they wait
Thy summons to their task.
_Pro._ Keep the flame bright,
But hidden till this hour. Wouldst thou dare, lady,
To join our councils at the night’s mid watch,
In the lone cavern by the rock-hewn cross?
_Vit._ What should I shrink from?
_Pro._ Oh! the forest-paths
Are dim and wild, e’en when the sunshine streams
Through their high arches; but when powerful night
Comes, with her cloudy phantoms, and her pale
Uncertain moonbeams, and the hollow sounds
Of her mysterious winds; their aspect _then_
Is of another and more fearful world--
A realm of indistinct and shadowy forms,
Waking strange thoughts almost too much for this--
Our frail terrestrial nature.
_Vit._ Well I know
All this, and more. Such scenes have been th’ abodes
Where through the silence of my soul have pass’d
Voices and visions from the sphere of those
That have to die no more! Nay, doubt it not!
If such unearthly intercourse hath e’er
Been granted to our nature, ’tis to hearts
Whose love is with the dead. They, they alone,
Unmadden’d could sustain the fearful joy
And glory of its trances! At the hour
Which makes guilt tremulous, and peoples earth
And air with infinite viewless multitudes,
I will be with thee, Procida.
_Pro._ Thy presence
Will kindle nobler thoughts, and, in the souls
Of suffering and indignant men, arouse
That which may strengthen our majestic cause
With yet a deeper power. Know’st thou the spot?
_Vit._ Full well. There is no scene so wild and lone,
In these dim woods, but I have visited
Its tangled shades.
_Pro._ At midnight, then, we meet.
[_Exit_ Procida.
_Vit._ Why should I fear? Thou wilt be with me--thou,
Th’ immortal dream and shadow of my soul,
Spirit of him I love! that meet’st me still
In loneliness and silence; in the noon
Of the wild night, and in the forest depths,
Known but to me; for whom thou giv’st the winds
And sighing leaves a cadence of thy voice,
Till my heart faints with that o’erthrilling joy!
--Thou wilt be with me there, and lend my lips
Words, fiery words, to flush dark cheeks with shame
That thou art unavenged!
[_Exit_ Vittoria.
Scene III.--_A Chapel, with a monument on which is laid a
sword._--_Moonlight._
Procida, Raimond, Montalba.
_Mon._ And know you not my story?
_Pro._ In the lands
Where I have been a wanderer, your deep wrongs
Were number’d with our country’s; but their tale
Came only in faint echoes to mine ear.
I would fain hear it now.
_Mon._ Hark! while you spoke,
There was a voice-like murmur in the breeze,
Which even like death came o’er me. ’Twas a night
Like this, of clouds contending with the moon,
A night of sweeping winds, of rustling leaves,
And swift wild shadows floating o’er the earth,
Clothed with a phantom life, when, after years
Of battle and captivity, I spurr’d
My good steed homewards. Oh! what lovely dreams
Rose on my spirit! There were tears and smiles,
But all of joy! And there were bounding steps,
And clinging arms, whose passionate clasp of love
Doth twine so fondly round the warrior’s neck
When his plumed helm is doff’d.--Hence, feeble thoughts!
--I am sterner now, yet once such dreams were mine!
_Raim._ And were they realised?
_Mon._ Youth! ask me not,
But listen! I drew near my own fair home--
There was no light along its walls, no sound
Of bugle pealing from the watch-tower’s height
At my approach, although my trampling steed
Made the earth ring, yet the wide gates were thrown
All open. Then my heart misgave me first,
And on the threshold of my silent hall
I paused a moment, and the wind swept by
With the same deep and dirge-like tone which pierced
My soul e’en now! I call’d--my struggling voice
Gave utterance to my wife’s, my children’s names.
They answer’d not. I roused my failing strength,
And wildly rush’d within.--And they were there.
_Raim._ And was all well?
_Mon._ Ay, well!--for death is well:
And they were all at rest! I see them yet,
Pale in their innocent beauty, which had fail’d
To stay the assassin’s arm!
_Raim._ Oh, righteous Heaven!
Who had done this?
_Mon._ Who!
_Pro._ Canst thou question, _who?_
Whom hath the earth to perpetrate such deeds,
In the cold-blooded revelry of crime,
But those whose yoke is on us?
_Raim._ Man of woe!
What words hath pity for despair like thine?
_Mon._ Pity!--fond youth!--My soul disdains the grief
Which doth unbosom its deep secrecies
To ask a vain companionship of tears,
And so to be relieved!
_Pro._ For woes like these
There is no sympathy but vengeance.
_Mon._ None!
Therefore I brought you hither, that your hearts
Might catch the spirit of the scene! Look round!
We are in th’ awful presence of the dead;
Within yon tomb _they_ sleep whose gentle blood
Weighs down the murderer’s soul. _They_ sleep!--but I
Am wakeful o’er their dust! I laid my sword,
Without its sheath, on their sepulchral stone,
As on an altar; and the eternal stars,
And heaven, and night, bore witness to my vow,
No more to wield it save in one great cause--
The vengeance of the grave! And now the hour
Of that atonement comes!
[_He takes the sword from the tomb._
_Raim._ My spirit burns!
And my full heart almost to bursting swells.
--Oh, for the day of battle!
_Pro._ Raimond, they
Whose souls are dark with guiltless blood must die,
--But not in battle.
_Raim._ How, my father?
_Pro._ No!
Look on that sepulchre, and it will teach
Another lesson. But the appointed hour
Advances. Thou wilt join our chosen band,
Noble Montalba?
_Mon._ Leave me for a time,
That I may calm my soul by intercourse
With the still dead, before I mix with men
And with their passions. I have nursed for years,
In silence and in solitude, the flame
Which doth consume me; and it is not used
Thus to be look’d or breathed on. Procida!
I would be tranquil--or appear so--ere
I join your brave confederates. Through my heart
There struck a pang--but it will soon have pass’d.
_Pro._ Remember!--in the cavern by the cross.
Now follow me, my son.
[_Exeunt_ Procida _and_ Raimond.
_Mon._ (_after a pause, leaning on the tomb._)
Said he, “_My son_?” Now, why should this man’s life
Go down in hope, thus resting on a son,
And I be desolate? How strange a sound
Was that--“_my son_!” I had a boy, who might
Have worn as free a soul upon his brow
As doth this youth. Why should the thought of _him_
Thus haunt me? When I tread the peopled ways
Of life again, I shall be pass’d each hour
By fathers with their children, and I must
Learn calmly to look on. Methinks ’twere now
A gloomy consolation to behold
All men bereft as I am! But away,
Vain thoughts!--One task is left for blighted hearts,
And it shall be fulfill’d.
_Exit_ Montalba.
Scene IV.--_Entrance of a Cave, surrounded by rocks and forests._ _A
rude Cross seen among the rocks._
Procida, Raimond.
_Pro._ And is it thus, beneath the solemn skies
Of midnight, and in solitary caves,
Where the wild forest creatures make their lair--