The Bride of Messina, and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy

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Фридрих Шиллер

Год написания книги

2017

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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.