They will for him provide: their filial love
And confidence are his unfailing treasure,
And every honest man his faithful guard.
Tan. A general face of grief o'erspreads the
city.

I mark'd the people, as I hither came,
In crowds assembled, struck with silent sorrow,
And pouring forth the noblest praise of tears.
Those, whom remembrance of their former
woes,

And long experience of the vain illusions
Of youthful hope, had into wise consent
And fear of change corrected, wrung their
hands,

And, often casting up their eyes to heaven,
Gave sign of sad conjecture. Others show'd,
Athwart their grief, or real or affected,
A gleam of expectation, from what chance
A change might bring. A mingled murmur

ran

Along the streets; and from the lonely court

arose,

And many a dire convulsion shook the state.
When he, whose death Sicilia mourns to-day,
William, who has and well deserv'd the name
Of Good, succeeding to his father's throne,
Reliev'd his country's woes-But to return;
She is the late king's sister, born some months
After the tyrant's death, but not next heir.
Tan. You much surprise me-May I then
To ask who is?
[presume

Sif. Come nearer, noble Tancred,
Son of my care.
I must, on this occasion,
Consult thy generous heart; which, when con-
ducted

By rectitude of mind and honest virtues,
Gives better counsel than the hoary head-
Then know, there lives a prince, here in Pal-
ermo,

The lineal offspring of our famous hero,
Roger the First.

Tan. Great Heaven! how far remov'd
From that our mighty founder?

Sif. His great grandson:

Sprung from his eldest son, who died untimely, Before his father.

Tan. Ha! the prince you mean,

Is he not Manfred's son? The generous, brave,
Unhappy Manfred! whom the tyrant William,
You just now mention'd, not content to spoil
Of his paternal crown, threw into fetters,
And infamously murder'd?

Sif. Yes, the same.

Tan. By Heavens, I joy to find our Norman reign, [ages, The world's sole light amidst these barbarous Yet rears its head; and shall not, from the

lance,

Pass to the feeble distaff.-But this prince,
Where has he lain conceal'd?

Sif. The late good king,

By noble pity mov'd, contriv'd to save him
From his dire father's unrelenting rage,
And had him rear'd in private, as became
His birth and hopes, with high and princely

I dread the horrors of rekindled war:
Though dead, the tyrant still is to be fear'd;
His daughter's party still is strong and numer-

ous:

terest.

Her friend, Earl Osmond, constable of Sicily, Experienc'd, brave, high-born, of mighty in[riage Better the prince and princess should by marUnite their friends, their interest, and their claims !

Then will the peace and welfare of the land On a firm basis rise.

Tan. My Lord Siffredi,

If by myself I of this prince may judge,
That scheme will scarce succeed-Your pru-
dent age

In vain will counsel, if the heart forbid it—
But wherefore fear? The right is clearly his;
And, under your direction, with each man
Of worth and steadfast loyalty to back
At once the king's appointment and his birth-
right,
[odds,
There is no ground for fear. They have great
Against th' astonish'd sons of violence,
Who fight with awful justice on their side.
All Sicily will rouse, all faithful hearts
Will range themselves around Prince Man-
fred's son.

cause

For me, I here devote me to the service
Of this young prince; I every drop of blood
Will lose with joy, with transport, in his
[never
Pardon my warmth-but that, my lord, will
To this decision come.-Then find the prince;
Lose not a moment to awaken in him
The royal soul. Perhaps he now, desponding,
Pines in a corner, and laments his fortune;
That in the narrower bounds of private life
He must contine his aims, those swelling vir-
Which from his noble father he inherits. [tues
Sif. Perhaps, regardless, in the common
Of youth, he melts, in vanity and love. [bane
But if the seeds of virtue glow within him,
I will awake a higher sense, a love [lions.
That grasps the loves and happiness of mil-
Tan. Why that surmise? Or should he love,
Siffredi,

I doubt not, it is nobly, which will raise
And animate his virtues-Oh, permit me
To plead the cause of youth-Their virtue oft,
In pleasure's soft enchantment lull'd awhile,
Forgets itself; it sleeps and gaily dreams,
Till great occasion rouse it; then, all flame,
It walks abroad, with heighten'd soul and
vigour,

And by the change astonishes the world.
Even with a kind of sympathy, I feel
The joy that waits this prince; when all the
powers,

Th' expanding heart can wish, of doing good;
Whatever swells ambition, or exalts
The human soul into divine emotions,
All crowd at once upon him.

Sif. Ah, my Tancred,
Nothing so easy as in speculation,

And at a distance seen, the course of honour,
A fair delightful champaign strew'd with
flowers.
[passions,
But when the practice comes; when our fond
Pleasure and pride, and self-indulgence,
throw
[roughens;
Their magic dust around, the prospect
Then dreadful passes, craggy mountains rise,
Cliffs to be scal'd, and torrents to be stemm'd;
Then toil ensues, and perseverance stern;
And endless combats with our grosser sense,
Oft lost, and oft renew'd; and generous pain

Tan. Siffredi !

Sif. Tancred, thou!

Thou art the man of all the many thousands
That toil upon the bosom of this isle,
By Heaven elected to command the rest,
To rule, protect them, and to make them happy
Tun. Manfred my father! I the last support
Of the fam'd Norman line, that awes the world!
I, who this morning wander'd forth an orphan,
Outcast of all but thee, my second father?
Thus call'd to glory! to the first great lot
Of human-kind!-Oh, wonder-working hand,
That, in majestic silence, sways at will
The mighty movements of unbounded nature:
Oh, grant me, Heaven, the virtues to sustai
This awful burden of so many heroes!
Let me not be exalted into shame,
Set up the worthless pageant of vain grandeur.
Meantime I thank the justice of the king,
Who has my right bequeath'd me. Thee Sif-
fredi,
[thee!
I thank thee Oh, I ne'er enough can thank
Yes, thou hast been-thou art-shalt be my
father!

Thou shalt direct my unexperienc'd years,
Shalt be the ruling head, and I the hand.

Sif. It is enough for me to see my sovereign Assert his virtues, and maintain his honour. Tan. I think, my lord, you said the king committed

To you his will. I hope it is not clogg'd
With any base conditions, any clause,
To tyrannize my heart, and to Constantia
Enslave my hand devoted to another.
The hint you just now gave of that alliance,
You must imagine, wakes my fear. But know,
In this alone I will not bear dispute,
Not even from thee, Siffredi !-Let the council
Be straight assembled, and the will there
open'd:

Thence issue speedy orders to convene,
This day, ere noon, the senate: where those
barons,

crown,

Who now are in Palermo, will attend,
To pay their ready homage to the king,
Their rightful king, who claims his native
[ments.
And will not be a king by deeds and parch-
Sif. I go, my liege. But once again permit
To tell you-Now, is the trying crisis, [me
That must determine of your future reign.
Oh, with heroic rigour watch your heart!
And to the sovereign duties of the king,
Th' unequall'd pleasures of a god on earth,
Submit the common joys, the common passions,
Nay, even the virtues of the private man.

Tan. Of that no more. They not oppose, but aid,

Invigorate, cherish, and reward each other.
The kind all-ruling wisdom is no tyrant.
[Exit SIFFREDI.
Now, generous Sigismunda, comes my turn
To show my love was not of thine unworthy,
When fortune bade me blush to look to thee.
But what is fortune to the wish of love?
A miserable bankrupt! Oh, 'tis poor,
"Tis scanty all, whate'er we can bestow!
The wealth of kings is wretchedness and

want!

Quick, let me find her! taste that highest joy, Th' exalted heart can know, the mix'd effusion

Of gratitude and love !-Behold she comes!

Enter SIGISMUNDA.

That I should then so mean a traitor prove
To the best bliss and honour of mankind,
So much disgrace the human heart, as then,
For the dead form of flattery and pomp,
The faithless joys of courts, to quit kind truth,
The cordial sweets of friendship and of love,
The life of life! my all, my Sigismunda?
I could upbraid thy fears, call them unkind,
Cruel, unjust, an outrage to my heart,
Did they not spring from love.

Sig. Think not, my lord,

That to such vulgar doubts I can descend.
Your heart, I know, disdains the little thought
Of changing with the vain, external change
Of circumstance and fortune. Rather thence
It would, with rising ardour, greatly feel
A noble pride, to show itself the same.
But, ah! the hearts of kings are not their

own.

Sig. Oh, my Tancred!

Tell me, what means this mystery and gloom That lowers around? Just now, involv'd in thought,

My father shot athwart me-You, my lord, Seem strangely mov'd-I fear some dark event, From the king's death, to trouble our repose, That tender calm we in the woods of Belmont So happily enjoy'd-Explain this hurry, What means it? Say.

Tan. It means that we are happy! Beyond our most romantic wishes happy! Sig. You but perplex me more. Tan. It means, my fairest That thou art queen of Sicily; and I The happiest of mankind! than monarch more! Because with thee I can adorn my throne. Manfred, who fell by tyrant William's rage, Fam'd Roger's lineal issue, was my father. [Pausing. You droop, my love; dejected on a sudden; You seen to mourn my fortune-The soft tear Springs in thy eye-Oh, let me kiss it off Why this, my Sigismunda?

Sig. Royal Tancred,

None at your glorious fortune can like me
Rejoice ;-yet me alone, of all Sicilians,
It makes unhappy.

Tan. I should hate it then! Should throw, with scorn, the splendid ruin from me!

No, Sigismunda, 'tis my hope with thee
To share it, whence it draws its richest value.
Sig. You are my sovereign-I at humble
distance-

Tan. Thou art my queen! the sovereign of my soul!

You never reign'd with such triumphant lustre, Such winning charms, as now; yet thou art

still

The dear, the tender, generous Sigismunda! Who, with a heart exalted far above Those selfish views that charm the common breast, [beauty, Stoop'd from the height of life and courted Then, then, to love me, when I seem'd of fortune

The hopeless outcast, when I had no friend, None to protect and own me, but thy father. And wouldst thou claim all goodness to thyself?

Canst thou thy Tancred deem so dully form'd, Of such gross clay, just as I reach'd the point A point my wildest hopes could ne'er imagine

In that great moment, full of every virtue,

To chains of state, to wed the public welfare,
And not indulge the tender private virtues.
Some high descended princess, who will bring
New power and interest to your throne, de-
mands

Your royal hand-perhaps Constantia—————
Tan. She!

Oh, name her not! were I this moment free
And disengag'd as he who never felt
The powerful eye of beauty, never sigh'd
For matchless worth like thine, I should abhor
All thoughts of that alliance. Her fell father
Most basely murder'd mine; and she, his
daughter,

Supported by his barbarous party still,
His pride inherits, his imperious spirit,
And insolent pretensions to my throne.
And, canst thou deem me then so poorly tame,
So cool a traitor to my father's blood,
As from the prudent cowardice of state
E'er to submit to such a base proposal?
Detested thought! Oh, doubly, "doubly hate-
ful!
[sion
From the two strongest passions; from aver-
To this Constantia-and from love to thee.
Custom, 'tis true, a venerable tyrant,
O'er servile man extends a blind dominion:
The pride of kings enslave them; their ambi-

tion,

Or interest, lords it o'er the better passions. But vain their talk, mask'd under specious Of station, duty, and of public good. [words They whom just Heaven has to a throne exalted,

To guard the rights and liberties of others, What duty binds them to betray their own? For me, my free-born heart shall bear no dic

tates,

But those of truth and honour; wear no chains,
But the dear chains of love, and Sigismunda!
Or if, indeed, my choice must be directed
By views of public good, whom shall I choose
So fit to grace, to dignify a crown,
And beam sweet mercy on a happy people,
As thee, my love? Whom place upon my
throne

But thee, descended from the good Siffredi ?
'Tis fit that heart be thine, which drew from
him

Whate'er can make it worthy thy acceptance. Sig. Cease, cease to raise my hopes above

my duty.

Charm me no more, my Tancred!-Oh, that we In those bless'd woods, where first you won my soul,

Had pass'd our gentle days; far from the toil And pomp of courts! Such is the wish of love;

tions,

Yet-ere I go-to hush thy lovely fears,
Thy delicate objections- -[Writes his name.]
Take this blank,

Sign'd with my name, and give it to thy father:
Tell him, 'tis my command it be fill'd up
With a most strict and solemn marriage-con-
tract.

How dear each tie! how charming to my soul!
That more unites me to my Sigismunda.
For thee, and for my people's good to live,
Is all the bliss which sovereign power can
give.
[Exeunt.

Shall make Constantia partner of his throne. Oh, great, oh, wish'd event! whence the dire seeds

Of dark intestine broils, of civil war,
And all its dreadful miseries and crimes,
Shall be for ever rooted from the land.
May these dim eyes, long blasted by the rage
Of cruel faction and my country's woes,
Tir'd with the toils and vanities of life,
Behold this period, then be clos'd in peace!
But how this mighty obstacle surmount,
Which love has thrown betwixt? Love, that
disturbs

The schemes of wisdom still; that, wing'd

blank,

Which his rash fondness gave her, shows how

much,

To what a wild extravagance he loves-
I see no means-it toils my deepest thought-
How to control this madness of the king.
That wears the face of virtue, and will thence
Disdain restraint, will, from his generous
heart,

Borrow new rage, even speciously oppose
To reason reason-But it must be done.
My own advice, of which I more and more
Approve, the strict conditions of the will,
Highly demand his marriage with Constantia;
Or else her party has a fair pretence-
And all at once is horror and confusion-
How issue from this maze?The crowd-
ing barons

Here summon'd to the palace, meet already,
To pay their homage, and confirm the will.
On a few moments hang the public fate,
On a few hasty moments- Ha! there shone
A gleam of hope-Yes, with this very paper
I yet will save him-Necessary means,
For good and noble ends, can ne'er be wrong.
In that resistless, that peculiar case,
Deceit is truth and virtue- But how hold
This lion in the toil?—Oh, I will form it
Of such a fatal thread, twist it so strong
With all the ties of honour and of duty,
That his most desperate fury shall not break
The honest snare. Here is the royal

hand

I will beneath it write a perfect, full,
And absolute agreement to the will;
Which read before the nobles of the realm
Assembled, in the sacred face of Sicily,
Constantia present, every heart and eve
Fix'd on their monarch, every tongue ap-
plauding,

He must submit, his dream of love must vanish

It shall be done-To me, I know 'tis ruin;
But safety to the public, to the king.
I will not reason more, I will not listen
Even to the voice of honour.-No-'tis fix'd!

here devote me for my prince and country; Let them be safe, and let me nobly perish! Behold, Earl Osmond comes, without whose aid

My schemes are all in vain.
Enter OSMOND.

Osm. My Lord Siffredi,

I from the council hasten'd to Constantia, And have accomplish'd what we there propos'd.

The princess to the will submits her claims. She with her presence means to grace the senate,

And of your royal charge, young Tancred's

hand,

Accept. At first, indeed, it shock'd her hopes
Of reigning sole, this new, surprising scene
Of Manfred's son, appointed by the king,
With her joint heir- -But I so fully show'd
The justice of the case, the public good,
And sure establish'd peace which thence
would rise,

Join'd to the strong necessity that urg'd her,
If on Sicilia's throne she meant to sit,
As to the wise disposal of the will
Her high ambition tam'd. Methought, besides,
I could discern, that not from prudence merely

She to this choice submitted.

Sif. Noble Osmond,

You have in this done to the public great
And signal service. Yes, I must avow it;
This frank and ready instance of your zeal,
In such a trying crisis of the state,

When interest and ambition might have warp'd
Your views, I own, this truly generous virtue
Upbraids the rashness of my former judgment.
Osm. Siffredi, no. To you belongs the
praise;

To boys and doting age. A prudent father,
By nature charg'd to guide and rule her choice,
Resigns his daughter to a husband's power,
Who, with superior dignity, with reason,
And manly tenderness, will ever love her;
Not first a kneeling slave, and then a tyrant.

Enter BARONS.

The glorious work is yours. Had I not seiz'd,
Improv'd the wish'd occasion to root out
Division from the land, and sav'd my country,
I had been base and infamous for ever.
'Tis you, my lord, to whom the many
sands,

That by the barbarous sword of civil war
Had fallen inglorious, owe their lives; to you
The sons of this fair isle, from her first peers
Down to the swain who tills her golden plains,
Owe their safe homes, their soft domestic
hours,

And through late time posterity shall bless

you,

You who advis'd this will.-I blush to think
I have so long oppos'd the best good man
In Sicily-With what impartial care
Ought we to watch o'er prejudice and passion,
Nor trust too much the jaundiced eye of party!
Henceforth its vain delusions I renounce,
Its hot determinations, that confine
All merit and all virtue to itself.

To yours I join my hand; with you will own
No interest and no party but my country.
Nor is your friendship only my ambition:
There is a dearer name, the name of father,
By which I should rejoice to call Siffredi.
Your daughter's hand would to the public
weal

Unite my private happiness.

Sif. My lord,

You have my glad consent. To be allied
To your distinguish'd family and merit,
I shall esteem an honour. From my soul
I here embrace Earl Osmond as my friend
And son.

Osm. You make him happy. This assent, So frank and warm, to what I long have wish'd,

Engages all my gratitude; at once,

In the first blossom, it matures our friendship. I from this moment vow myself the friend And zealous servant of Siffredi's house.

Enter an OFFICER belonging to the Court. Off. [To SIFFREDI.] The king, my lord, demands your speedy presence. Sif. I will attend him straight-Farewell, my lord;

The senate meets: there, a few moments hence,
I will rejoin you.

Osm. There, my noble lord,
We will complete this salutary work;
Will there begin a new auspicious era.

[Exeunt SIFFREDI and OFFICER. Siffredi gives his daughter to my wishesBut does she give herself? Gay, young, and flatter'd,

Perhaps engag'd, will she her youthful heart
Yield to my harsher, uncomplying years?
I am not form'd, by flattery and praise,
By sighs and tears, and all the whining trade
Of love, to feed a fair one's vanity;

To charm at once and spoil her. These soft

arts

Nor suit my ears nor temper; these be left

No passion now, no thwarting views divide us : Prince Manfred's line, at last to William's join'd,

Combine us in one family of brothers.
This to the late good king's well-ordered will
And wise Siffredi's generous care, we owe.
I truly give you joy. First of you all,
I here renounce those errors and divisions
That have so long disturb'd our peace, and
seem'd

Fermenting still, to threaten new commo

tions

By time instructed, let us not disdain To quit mistakes. We all, my lords, have err'd.

Men may, I find, be honest, though they differ. 1st Baron. Who follows not, my lord, the

fair example

You set us all, whate'er be his pretence,
Loves not, with single and unbias'd heart,
His country as he ought.

2d Baron. Oh, beauteous peace!
Sweet union of a state! what else but thou
Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people?
I bow, lord constable, beneath the snow
Of many years; yet in my breast revives
A youthful flame. Methinks, I see again
Those gentle days renew'd, that bless'd our
isle,

Ere by this wasteful fury of division,
Worse than our Ætna's most destructive fires,
It desolated sunk. I see our plains
Unbounded waving with the gifts of harvest;
Our seas with commerce throng'd; our busy

port

With cheerful toil. Our Enna blooms afresh ;
Afresh the sweets of thymy Hybla flow.
Our nymphs and shepherds sporting in each

vale,

sons;

Inspire new song, and wake the pastoral reed-
The tongue of age is fond-Come, come, my
I long to see this prince, of whom the world
Speaks largely well-His father was my
The brave, unhappy Manfred---Come, my lords;
friend,
We tarry here too long.

Enter two OFFICERS, keeping off the Crowd.
One of the Crowd. Show us our king,
The valiant Manfred's son, who lov'd the
people-

We must, we will behold him-Give us way. 1st Of Pray, gentlemen, give back-it

must not be

Give back, I pray-on such a glad occasion, I would not ill entreat the lowest of you. 2d Man of the Crowd. Nay, give us but a glimpse of our young king. We more than any baron of them all, Will pay him due allegiance.