Chapter CIII: Act V (1)

A wild wood: charcoal-burners' huts in the distance.
It is quite dark; violent thunder and lightning;
firing heard at intervals.

SCENE I.

CHARCOAL-BURNER and his WIFE.

CHARCOAL-BURNER. This is a fearful storm, the heavens seem As if they would vent themselves in streams of fire; So thick the darkness which usurps the day, That one might see the stars. The angry winds Bluster and howl like spirits loosed from hell. The firm earth trembles, and the aged elms Groaning, bow down their venerable tops. Yet this terrific tumult, o'er our heads, Which teacheth gentleness to savage beasts, So that they seek the shelter of their caves, Appeaseth not the bloody strife of men-- Amidst the raging of the wind and storm At intervals is heard the cannon's roar; So near the hostile armaments approach, The wood alone doth part them; any hour May see them mingle in the shock of battle.

WIFE. May God protect us then! Our enemies, Not long ago, were vanquished and dispersed. How comes it that they trouble us again?

CHARCOAL-BURNER. Because they now no longer fear the king, Since that the maid turned out to be a witch At Rheims, the devil aideth us no longer, And things have gone against us.

WIFE.
Who comes here?

SCENE II.

RAIMOND and JOHANNA enter.

RAIMOND. See! here are cottages; in them at least We may find shelter from the raging storm. You are not able longer to endure it. Three days already you have wandered on, Shunning the eye of man--wild herbs and root Your only nourishment. Come, enter in. These are kind-hearted cottagers.

[The storm subsides; the air grows bright and clear.

CHARCOAL-BURNER. You seem To need refreshment and repose--you're welcome To what our humble roof can offer you!

WIFE. What has a tender maid to do with arms? Yet truly! these are rude and troublous times When even women don the coat of mail! The queen herself, proud Isabel, 'tis said, Appears in armor in the hostile camp; And a young maid, a shepherd's lowly daughter, Has led the armies of our lord the king.

CHARCOAL-BURNER. What sayest thou? Enter the hut, and bring A goblet of refreshment for the damsel.

[She enters the hut.

RAIMOND (to JOHANNA). All men, you see, are not so cruel; here E'en in the wilderness are gentle hearts. Cheer up! the pelting storm hath spent its rage, And, beaming peacefully, the sun declines.

CHARCOAL-BURNER. I fancy, as you travel thus in arms, You seek the army of the king. Take heed! Not far remote the English are encamped, Their troops are roaming idly through the wood.

RAIMOND. Alas for us! how then can we escape?

CHARCOAL-BURNER. Stay here till from the town my boy returns. He shall conduct you safe by secret paths. You need not fear-we know each hidden way.

RAIMOND (to JOHANNA). Put off your helmet and your coat-of-mail, They will not now protect you, but betray.

[JOHANNA shakes her head.

CHARCOAL-BURNER. The maid seems very sad--hush! who comes here?

SCENE III.

CHARCOAL-BURNER'S WIFE comes out of the hut
with a bowl. A Boy.

WIFE. It is our boy whom we expected back. [To JOHANNA. Drink, noble maiden! may God bless it to you!

CHARCOAL-BURNER (to his son). Art come, Anet? What news?

[The boy looks at JOHANNA, who is just raising the
bowl to her lips; he recognizes her, steps forward,
and snatches it from her.

BOY. Oh, mother! mother! Whom do you entertain? This is the witch Of Orleans!

CHARCOAL-BURNER (and his WIFE).
God be gracious to our souls!

[They cross themselves and fly.

SCENE IV.

RAIMOND, JOHANNA.

JOHANNA (calmly and gently) Thou seest, I am followed by the curse, And all fly from me. Do thou leave me, too; Seek safety for thyself.

RAIMOND. I leave thee! now Alas, who then would bear thee company?

JOHANNA. I am not unaccompanied. Thou hast Heard the loud thunder rolling o'er my head-- My destiny conducts me. Do not fear; Without my seeking I shall reach the goal.

RAIMOND. And whither wouldst thou go? Here stand our foes, Who have against thee bloody vengeance sworn-- There stand our people who have banished thee.

JOHANNA. Naught will befall me but what heaven ordains.

RAIMOND. Who will provide thee food? and who protect thee From savage beasts, and still more savage men? Who cherish thee in sickness and in grief?

JOHANNA. I know all roots and healing herbs; my sheep Taught me to know the poisonous from the wholesome. I understand the movements of the stars, And the clouds' flight; I also hear the sound Of hidden springs. Man hath not many wants, And nature richly ministers to life.

RAIMOND (seizing her hand). Wilt thou not look within? Oh, wilt thou not Repent thy sin, be reconciled to God, And to the bosom of the church return?

JOHANNA. Thou hold'st me guilty of this heavy sin?

RAIMOND. Needs must I--thou didst silently confess----

JOHANNA. Thou, who hast followed me in misery, The only being who continued true, Who slave to me when all the world forsook, Thou also hold'st me for a reprobate Who hath renounced her God---- [RAIMOND is silent. Oh, this is hard!

RAIMOND (in astonishment). And thou wert really then no sorceress?

JOHANNA. A sorceress!

RAIMOND. And all these miracles Thou hast accomplished through the power of God And of his holy saints?

JOHANNA.
Through whom besides?

RAIMOND. And thou wert silent to that fearful charge? Thou speakest now, and yet before the king, When words would have availed thee, thou wert dumb!

JOHANNA. I silently submitted to the doom Which God, my lord and master, o'er me hung.

RAIMOND. Thou couldst not to thy father aught reply?

JOHANNA. Coming from him, methought it came from God; And fatherly the chastisement will prove.

RAIMOND. The heavens themselves bore witness to thy guilt!

JOHANNA. The heavens spoke, and therefore I was silent.

RAIMOND. Thou with one word couldst clear thyself, and hast In this unhappy error left the world?

JOHANNA. It was no error--'twas the will of heaven.

RAIMOND. Thou innocently sufferedst this shame, And no complaint proceeded from thy lips! --I am amazed at thee, I stand o'erwhelmed. My heart is troubled in its inmost depths. Most gladly I receive the word as truth, For to believe thy guilt was hard indeed. But could I ever dream a human heart Would meet in silence such a fearful doom!

JOHANNA. Should I deserve to be heaven's messenger Unless the Master's will I blindly honored? And I am not so wretched as thou thinkest. I feel privation--this in humble life Is no misfortune; I'm a fugitive,-- But in the waste I learned to know myself. When honor's dazzling radiance round me shone, There was a painful struggle in my breast; I was most wretched, when to all I seemed Most worthy to be envied. Now my mind Is healed once more, and this fierce storm in nature, Which threatened your destruction, was my friend; It purified alike the world and me! I feel an inward peace--and come, what may, Of no more weakness am I conscious now!

RAIMOND. Oh, let us hasten! come, let us proclaim Thine innocence aloud to all the world! JOHANNA. He who sent this delusion will dispel it! The fruit of fate falls only when 'tis ripe! A day is coming that will clear my name, When those who now condemn and banish me, Will see their error and will weep my doom.

RAIMOND. And shall I wait in silence, until chance----

JOHANNA (gently taking her hand). Thy sense is shrouded by an earthly veil, And dwelleth only on external things, Mine eye hath gazed on the invisible! --Without permission from our God no hair Falls from the head of man. Seest thou the sun Declining to the west? So certainly As morn returneth in her radiant light, Infallibly the day of truth shall come!

SCENE V.

QUEEN ISABEL, with soldiers, appears in the background.

ISABEL (behind the scene). This is the way toward the English camp!

RAIMOND. Alas! the foe!

[The soldiers advance, and perceiving JOBANNA fall back in terror.

ISABEL. What now obstructs the march?

SOLDIERS. May God protect us!

ISABEL.
Do ye see a spirit?
How! Are ye soldiers! Ye are cowards all!
[She presses forward, but starts back on beholding the MAIDEN.
What do I see!
[She collects herself quickly and approaches her.
Submit thyself! Thou art
My prisoner!

JOHANNA.
I am.

[RAIMOND flies in despair.

ISABEL (to the soldiers).
Lay her in chains!

[The soldiers timidly approach the MAIDEN;
she extends her arms and is chained.

Is this the mighty, the terrific one, Who chased your warriors like a flock of lambs, Who, powerless now, cannot protect herself? Doth she work miracles with credulous fools, And lose her influence when she meets a man?

[To the MAIDEN.

Why didst thou leave the army? Where's Dunois, Thy knight and thy protector.

JOHANNA.
I am banished.

[ISABEL, stepping back astonished.

ISABEL. What say'st thou? Thou art banished? By the Dauphin?

JOHANNA. Inquire no further! I am in thy power, Decide my fate.

ISABEL. Banished, because thou hast Snatched him from ruin, placed upon his brow The crown at Rheims, and made him King of France? Banished! Therein I recognize my son! --Conduct her to the camp, and let the host Behold the phantom before whom they trembled! She a magician? Her sole magic lies In your delusion and your cowardice! She is a fool who sacrificed herself To save her king, and reapeth for her pains A king's reward. Bear her to Lionel. The fortune of the French! send him bound; I'll follow anon.

JOHANNA. To Lionel? Slay me at once, ere send me unto him.

ISABEL (to the soldiers). Obey your orders, soldiers! Bear her hence.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

JOHANNA, SOLDIERS.

JOHANNA (to the soldiers). Ye English, suffer not that I escape Alive out of your hands! Revenge yourselves! Unsheath your weapons, plunge them in my heart, And drag me lifeless to your general's feet! Remember it was I who slew your heroes, Who never showed compassion, who poured forth Torrents of English blood, who from your sons Snatched the sweet pleasure of returning home! Take now a bloody vengeance! Murder me! I now am in your power; I may perchance Not always be so weak.

CONDUCTOR OF THE SOLDIERS.
Obey the queen!

JOHANNA. Must I be yet more wretched than I was! Unpitying Virgin! Heavy is thy hand Hast thou completely thrust me from thy favor? No God appears, no angel shows himself; Closed are heaven's portals, miracles have ceased.

[She follows the SOLDIERS.

SCENE VII.

The French Camp.
DUNOIS, between the ARCHBISHOP and DUCHATEL.

ARCHBISHOP. Conquer your sullen indignation, prince! Return with us! Come back unto your king! In this emergency abandon not The general cause, when we are sorely pressed, And stand in need of your heroic arm.

DUNOIS. Why are ye sorely pressed? Why doth the foe Again exalt himself? all was achieved;-- France was triumphant--war was at an end;-- The savior you have banished; you henceforth May save yourselves; I'll not again behold The camp wherein the maid abideth not.

DUCHATEL. Think better of it, prince! Dismiss us not With such an answer!

DUNOIS. Silence, Duchatel! You're hateful to me; I'll hear naught from you; You were the first who doubted of her truth.

ARCHBISHOP. Who had not wavered on that fatal day, And been bewildered, when so many signs Bore evidence against her! We were stunned, Our hearts were crushed beneath the sudden blow. --Who in that hour of dread could weigh the proofs? Our calmer judgment now returns to us, We see the maid as when she walked with us, Nor have we any fault to charge her with. We are perplexed--we fear that we have done A grievous wrong. The king is penitent, The duke remorseful, comfortless La Hire, And every heart doth shroud itself in woe.

DUNOIS. She a deluder? If celestial truth Would clothe herself in a corporeal form, She needs must choose the features of the maiden. If purity of heart, faith, innocence, Dwell anywhere on earth, upon her lips And in her eyes' clear depths they find their home.

ARCHBISHOP. May the Almighty, through a miracle, Shed light upon this awful mystery, Which baffles human insight. Howsoe'er This sad perplexity may be resolved, One of two grievous sins we have committed! Either in fight we have availed ourselves Of hellish arms, or banished hence a saint! And both call down upon this wretched land The vengeance and the punishment of heaven.

SCENE VIII.

The same, a NOBLEMAN, afterwards RAIMOND.

NOBLEMAN. A shepherd youth inquires after your highness, He urgently entreats an interview, He says he cometh from the maiden----

DUNOIS. Haste! Conduct him hither! He doth come from her!

[The NOBLEMAN opens the door to RAIMOND, DUNOIS hastens to meet him.

Where is she? Where is the maid?

RAIMOND. Hail! noble prince! And blessed am I that I find with you This holy man, the shield of the oppressed, The father of the poor and destitute!

DUNOIS. Where is the maiden?

ARCHBISHOP.
Speak, my son, inform us!

RAIMOND. She is not, sir, a wicked sorceress! To God and all his saints I make appeal. An error blinds the people. You've cast forth God's messenger, you've banished innocence!

DUNOIS. Where is she?

RAIMOND. I accompanied her flight Towards the woods of Ardennes; there she hath Revealed to me her spirit's inmost depths. In torture I'll expire, and will resign My hopes of everlasting happiness, If she's not guiltless, sir, of every sin!

DUNOIS. The sun in heaven is not more pure than she! Where is she? Speak!

RAIMOND. If God hath turned your hearts, Oh hasten, I entreat you--rescue her She is a prisoner in the English camp.

DUNOIS. A prisoner say you?

ARCHBISHOP.
Poor unfortunate!

RAIMOND. There in the forest as we sought for shelter, We were encountered by Queen Isabel, Who seized and sent her to the English host. Oh, from a cruel death deliver her Who hath full many a time delivered you!

DUNOIS. Sound an alarm! to arms! up! beat the drums. Forth to the field! Let France appear in arms! The crown and the palladium are at stake! Our honor is in pledge! risk blood and life! She must be rescued ere the day is done!

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

A watch-tower--an opening above. JOHANNA and LIONEL.

FASTOLFE (entering hastily). The people can no longer be restrained. With fury they demand the maiden's death. In vain your opposition. Let her die And throw her head down from the battlements! Her blood alone will satisfy the host.

ISABEL (coming in). With ladders they begin to scale the walls. Appease the angry people! Will you wait Till in blind fury they o'erthrow the tower, And we beneath its towers are destroyed? Protect her here you cannot. Give her up!

LIONEL. Let them storm on. In fury let them rage! Firm is this castle, and beneath its ruins I will be buried ere I yield to them. --Johanna, answer me! only be mine, And I will shield thee 'gainst a world in arms.

ISABEL. Are you a man?

LIONEL. Thy friends have cast thee off. To thy ungrateful country then dost owe Duty and faith no longer. The false cowards Who sought thy hand, forsake thee in thy need. They for thy honor venture not the fight, But I, against my people and 'gainst thine, Will be thy champion. Once thou didst confess My life was dear to thee; in combat then I stood before thee as thine enemy-- Thou hast not now a single friend but me.

JOHANNA. Thou art my people's enemy and mine. Between us there can be no fellowship. Thee I can never love, but if thy heart Cherish affection for me, let it bring A blessing on my people. Lead thy troops Far from the borders of my fatherland; Give up the keys of all the captured towns, Restore the booty, set the captives free, Send hostages the compact to confirm, And peace I offer thee in my king's name.

ISABEL. Wilt thou, a captive, dictate laws to us?

JOHANNA. It must be done; 'tis useless to delay. Never, oh never, will this land endure The English yoke; sooner will France become A mighty sepulchre for England's hosts. Fallen in battle are your bravest chiefs. Think how you may achieve a safe retreat; Your fame is forfeited, your power is lost.

ISABEL. Can you endure her raving insolence?

SCENE X.

A CAPTAIN enters hastily.

CAPTAIN. Haste, general! Prepare the host for battle. The French with flying banners come this way, Their shining weapons glitter in the vale.

JOHANNA (with enthusiasm). My people come this way! Proud England now Forth in the field! now boldly must you fight!

FASTOLFE. Deluded woman, moderate your joy! You will not see the issue of this day.

JOHANNA. My friends will win the fight and I shall die! The gallant heroes need my arm no more.

LIONEL. These dastard enemies I scorn. They have In twenty battles fled before our arms, Ere this heroic maiden fought for them. All the whole nation I despise, save one, And this one they have banished. Come, Fastolfe, We soon will give them such another day As that of Poictiers and of Agincourt. Do you remain with the fortress, queen, And guard the maiden till the fight is o'er. I leave for your protection fifty knights.

FASTOLFE. How! general, shall we march against the foe And leave this raging fury in our rear?

JOHANNA. What! can a fettered woman frighten thee?

LIONEL. Promise, Johanna, not to free thyself.

JOHANNA. To free myself is now my only wish.

ISABEL. Bind her with triple chains. I pledged my life That she shall not escape.

[She is bound with heavy chains.

LIONEL (to JOHANNA). Thou will'st it so! Thou dost compel us! still it rests with thee! Renounce the French--the English banner bear, And thou art free, and these rude, savage men Who now desire thy blood shall do thy will.

FASTOLFE (urgently). Away, away, my general!

JOHANNA. Spare thy words, The French are drawing near. Defend thyself!

[Trumpets sound, LIONEL hastens forth.

FASTOLFE. You know your duty, queen! if fate declares Against us, should you see our people fly.

ISABEL (showing a dagger). Fear not. She shall not live to see our fall.

FASTOLFE (to JOHANNA). Thou knowest what awaits thee, now implore A blessing on the weapons of thy people.

[Exit.

SCENE XI.

ISABEL, JOHANNA, SOLDIERS.

JOHANNA. Ay! that I will! no power can hinder me. Hark to that sound, the war-march of my people! How its triumphant notes inspire my heart! Ruin to England! victory to France! Up, valiant countrymen! The maid is near; She cannot, as of yore, before you bear Her banner--she is bound with heavy chains; But freely from her prison soars her soul, Upon the pinions of your battle-song.

ISABEL (to a SOLDIER). Ascend the watch-tower which commands the field, And thence report the progress of the fight.

[SOLDIER ascends.

JOHANNA. Courage, my people! 'Tis the final struggle-- Another victory, and the foe lies low!

ISABEL. What see'st thou?

SOLDIER. They're already in close fight. A furious warrior on a Barbary steed, In tiger's skin, leads forward the gens d'armes.

JOHANNA. That's Count Dunois! on, gallant warrior! Conquest goes with thee.

SOLDIER. The Burgundian duke Attacks the bridge.

ISABEL. Would that ten hostile spears Might his perfidious heart transfix, the traitor!

SOLDIER. Lord Fastolfe gallantly opposes him. Now they dismount--they combat man to man Our people and the troops of Burgundy.

ISABEL. Behold'st thou not the Dauphin? See'st thou not The royal wave?

SOLDIER. A cloud of dust Shrouds everything. I can distinguish naught.

JOHANNA. Had he my eyes, or stood I there aloft, The smallest speck would not elude my gaze! The wild fowl I can number on the wing, And mark the falcon in his towering flight.

SOLDIER. There is a fearful tumult near the trench; The chiefs, it seems, the nobles, combat there.

ISABEL. Still doth our banner wave?

SOLDIER.
It proudly floats.

JOHANNA. Could I look through the loopholes of the wall, I with my lance the battle would control.

SOLDIER. Alas! What do I see? Our general's Surrounded by the foe!

ISABEL (points the dagger at JOHANNA).
Die, wretch!

SOLDIER (quickly). He's free! The gallant Fastolfe in the rear attacks The enemy--he breaks their serried ranks.

ISABEL (withdrawing the dagger). There spoke thy angel!

SOLDIER.
Victory! They fly.

ISABEL. Who fly?

SOLDIER. The French and the Burgundians fly; The field is covered o'er with fugitives.

JOHANNA. My God! Thou wilt not thus abandon me!

SOLDIER. Yonder they lead a sorely wounded knight; The people rush to aid him--he's a prince.

ISABEL. One of our country, or a son of France?

SOLDIER. They loose his helmet--it is Count Dunois.

JOHANNA (seizes her fetters with convulsive violence). And I am nothing but a fettered woman!

SOLDIER. Look yonder! Who the azure mantle wears Bordered with gold?

JOHANNA.
That is my lord, the king.

SOLDIER. His horse is restive, plunges, rears and falls-- He struggles hard to extricate himself.

[JOHANNA accompanies these words with passionate movements.

Our troops are pressing on in full career, They near him, reach him--they surround him now.

JOHANNA. Oh, have the heavens above no angels more!

ISABEL (laughing scornfully). Now is the time, deliverer--now deliver!

JOHANNA (throws herself upon her knees, and prays with passionate violence). Hear me, O God, in my extremity! In fervent supplication up to Thee, Up to thy heaven above I send my soul. The fragile texture of a spider's web, As a ship's cable, thou canst render strong; Easy it is to thine omnipotence To change these fetters into spider's webs-- Command it, and these massy chains shall fall, And these thick walls be rent, Thou, Lord of old, Didst strengthen Samson, when enchained and blind He bore the bitter scorn of his proud foes. Trusting in thee, he seized with mighty power The pillars of his prison, bowed himself, And overthrew the structure.

SOLDIER.
Triumph!

ISABEL.
How?

SOLDIER. The king is taken!

JOHANNA (springing up).
Then God be gracious to me!

[She seizes her chains violently with both hands, and
breaks them asunder. At the same moment rushing upon the
nearest soldier, she seizes his sword and hurries out.
All gaze after her, transfixed with astonishment.

SCENE XII.

The same, without JOHANNA.

ISABEL (after a long pause). How was it? Did I dream? Where is she gone? How did she break these ponderous iron chains? A world could not have made me credit it, If I had not beheld it with these eyes.

SOLDIER (from the tower). How? Hath she wings? Hath the wind borne her down?

ISABEL. Is she below?

SOLDIER. She strides amidst the fight: Her course outspeeds my sight--now she is here-- Now there--I see her everywhere at once! --She separates the troops--all yield to her: The scattered French collect--they form anew! --Alas! what do I see! Our people cast Their weapons to the ground, our banners sink----

ISABEL. What? Will she snatch from us the victory?

SOLDIER. She presses forward, right towards the king. She reaches him--she bears him from the fight-- Lord Fastolfe falls--the general is taken!

ISABEL. I'll hear no more! Come down!

SOLDIER. Fly, queen! you will be taken by surprise. Armed soldiers are advancing tow'rds the tower.

[He comes down.

ISABEL (drawing her sword). Then fight, ye cowards!

SCENE IV.

LA HIRE with soldiers. At his entrance the people
of the QUEEN lay down their arms.

LA HIRE (approaching her respectfully). Queen, submit yourself-- Your knights have yielded--to resist is vain! --Accept my proffered services. Command Where you would be conducted.

ISABEL. Every place The same, where I encounter not the Dauphin.

[She resigns her sword, and follows him with the soldiers.

The Scene changes to the battle-field.

SCENE XIV.

Soldiers with flying banners occupy the background. Before them the
KING and the DUKE OF BURGUNDY appear, bearing JOHANNA in their arms;
she is mortally wounded, and apparently lifeless. They advance
slowly to the front of the stage. AGNES SOREL rushes in.

SOREL (throwing herself on the bosom of the KING). You're free--you live--I have you back again!

KING. Yes, I am free--I am so at this price!

[Pointing to JOHANNA.

SOREL. Johanna! God! she's dying!

BURGUNDY. She is gone An angel passeth hence! See, how she lies, Easy and tranquil, like a sleeping child! The peace of heaven around her features plays, The breath of life no longer heaves her breast, But vital warmth still lingers in her hand.

KING. She's gone! She never will awaken more, Her eye will gaze no more on earthly things. She soars on high, a spirit glorified, She seeth not our grief, our penitence.

SOREL. Her eyes unclose--she lives!

BURGUNDY (in astonishment). Can she return Back from the grave, triumphant e'en o'er death? She riseth up! She standeth!

JOHANNA (standing up, and looking round).
Where am I?

BURGUNDY. With thine own people, maiden--with thy friends!

KING. Supported by thy friend, and by thy king.

JOHANNA (after looking at him fixedly for some time). No! I am not a sorceress! Indeed I am not one.

KING. Thou'rt holy, as an angel; A cloud of error dimmed our mental sight.

JOHANNA (gazing round her with a joyful smile). And am I really, then, among my friends, And am no more rejected and despised? They curse me not--kindly they look on me! --Yes, all around me now seems clear again! That is my king!--the banners these of France! My banner I behold not--where is it? Without my banner I dare not appear; To me it was confided by my Lord, And I before his throne must lay it down; I there may show it, for I bore it truly.

KING (averting his face). Give her the banner!

[It is given to her. She stands quite unsupported,
the banner in her hand. The heaven is illumined
by a rosy light.

JOHANNA. See you the rainbow yonder in the air? Its golden portals heaven doth wide unfold, Amid the angel choir she radiant stands, The eternal Son she claspeth to her breast, Her arms she stretcheth forth to me in love. How is it with me? Light clouds bear me up-- My ponderous mail becomes a winged robe; I mount--I fly--back rolls the dwindling earth-- Brief is the sorrow--endless is the joy!

[Her banner falls and she sinks lifeless on the ground.
All remain for some time in speechless sorrow. Upon a
signal from the KING, all the banners are gently placed
over her, so that she is entirely concealed by them.

THE BRIDE OF MESSINA

AND

ON THE USE OF THE CHORUS IN TRAGEDY.

By Frederich Schiller

THE BRIDE OF MESSINA

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, cone 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 Shall part us long; soon the last darkening fold Shall vanish from my breast.

[Turning to the CHORUS.

Attend! Forever Stilled is our strife; he is my deadliest foe, 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 Sent by her unknown mother, oft bespeaks her Of kingly race.

Chorus (CAJETAN). And hast thou won naught else From her garrulous age?

DON MANUEL. Too much I feared to peril My secret bliss!

Chorus (CAJETAN). What were his words? What tidings He bore--perchance thou know'st.

DON MANUEL. Oft he has cheered her With promise of a happier time, when all Shall be revealed.

Chorus (CAJETAN). Oh, say--betokens aught The time is near?

DON MANUEL. Not distant far the day That to the arms of kindred love once more Shall give the long forsaken, orphaned maid-- Thus with mysterious words the aged man Has shadowed oft what most I dread--for awe Of change disturbs the soul supremely blest: Nay, more; but yesterday his message spoke The end of all my joys--this very dawn, He told, should smile auspicious on her fate, And light to other scenes--no precious hour Delayed my quick resolves--by night I bore her In secret to Messina.

Chorus (CAJETAN). Rash the deed Of sacrilegious spoil! forgive, my prince, The bold rebuke; thus to unthinking youth Old age may speak in friendship's warning voice.