Scene 1
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,
Grey 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: