2d Of. Friends, indeed You cannot pass this way-We have strict orders, To keep for him himself, and for the barons, All these apartments clear-Go to the gate That fronts the sea, you there will find admission.

Omnes. Long live King Tancred! Manfred's son-huzza! [Crowd goes off. 1st Off. I do not marvel at their rage of joy. He is a brave and amiable prince. When in my Lord Siffredi's house I liv'd, Ere by his favour I obtain'd this office,

Had shown a nobler heart; nor grossly thus,
By the first bait ambition spread, been gull'd,
He Manfred's son! away! it cannot be !
The son of that brave prince could ne'er be-
tray
[father.
Those rights so long usurp'd from his great
Which he, this day, by such amazing fortune,
Had just regain'd; he ne'er could sacrifice
All faith, all honour, gratitude, and love,
Even just resentment of his father's fate,
And pride itself; whate'er exalts a man
Above the groveling sons of peasant mud,
All in a moment-And for what? why, truly,

I there remember well the young Count Tan-For kind permission, gracious leave, to sit cred.

To see him and to love him were the same;

He was so noble in his ways, yet still

So affable and mild-Well, well, old Sicily,

Yet happy days await thee!

2d Off. Grant it, Heaven!

On his own throne with tyrant William's daughter!

Rod. I stand amaz'd-You surely wrong
him, Laura.

There must be some mistake.
Laura. There can be none !

We have seen sad and troublesome times Siffredi read his full and free consent
enough,

He is, they say, to wed the late king's sister,
Constantia.

1st Off. Friend, of that I greatly doubt.
Or I mistake, or Lord Siffredi's daughter,
The gentle Sigismunda, has his heart.
If one may judge by kindly, cordial looks,
And fond, assiduous care to please each other,
Most certainly they love-Oh, be they bless'd,
As they deserve! It were great pity aught
Should part a matchless pair; the glory he,
And she the blooming grace of Sicily!
2d Off. My Lord Rodolpho comes.

Enter RODOLPHO from the Senate.
Rod. My honest friends,

You may retire. [OFFICERS go out.] A storm
is in the wind.

This will perplexes all. No, Tancred never
Can stoop to these conditions, which at once
Attack his rights, his honour, and his love.
Those wise old men, those plodding, grave,
state pedants,

Forget the course of youth; their crooked
prudence,

To baseness verging still, forgets to take
Into their fine-spun schemes the generous
heart,
[lays
That, through the cobweb system bursting,
Their labours waste-So will this business

Before th' applauding senate. True, indeed,
A small remain of shame, a timorous weak-

ness,

Even dastardly in falsehood, made him blush
To act this scene in Sigismunda's eye,
Who sunk beneath his perfidy and baseness.
Hence, till to-morrow he adjourn'd the senate!
To-morrow, fix'd with infamy to crown him!
Then leading off his gay, triumphant princess,
He left the poor unhappy Sigismunda
To bend her trembling steps to that sad home
His faithless vows will render hateful to
her-
[sence!
He comes-Farewell-I cannot bear his pre-
[Exit LAURA.

Enter TANCRED and SIFFREDI, meeting. Tan. Avoid me, hoary traitor! Go, Redolpho,

Give orders that all passages this way
Be shut-Defend me from a hateful world,
The bane of peace and honour-then returs-
[Exit RODOLPHO.

What! dost thou haunt me still? Oh, mon

strous insult!

Unparallel'd indignity! Just Heaven!
Was ever king, was ever man so treated,
So trampled into baseness?
Here strike! I nor deserve, nor ask for mercy.
Sif. Here, my liege,
Tan. Distraction!-Oh, my soul!-Hold,
reason, hold

Thy giddy seat-Oh, this inhuman outrage
Unhinges thought!

Sif. Exterminate thy servant.

Tan. All, all but this I could have borne

but this!

This daring insolence beyond example!
This murderous stroke, that stabs my peace

for ever!

Which not repents its crime-Oh, glorious, | In this will be a king; in this my people If by my ruin I can save your honour. [happy! Shall learn to judge how I will guard their Tan. Such honour I renounce; with soverrights, eign scorn

It is the sole expedient now remaining-
To-morrow, when the senate meets again,
Unfold the whole, unravel the deceit;
Nor that alone; try to repair its mischief:
There all thy power, thy eloquence,and interest
Exert to re-instate me in my rights, [me.
And from thy own dark snares to disembroil
Start not, my lord-This must and shall be
done!
[guis'd,
Or here our friendship ends-Howe'er dis-
Whatever thy pretence, thou art a traitor.
Sif. I should indeed deserve the name of
traitor,

And even a traitor's fate, had I so slightly,
From principles so weak, done what I did,
As e'er to disavow it-

Tan. Ha!

Sif. My liege,

All mad with acclamation, what, Rodolpho,
What could I do? the sole relief that rose
To my distracted mind, was to adjourn
Th' assembly till to-morrow--But to-morrow
What can be done?-Oh, it avails not what!
I care not what is done-My only care
Is how to clear my faith with Sigismunda.
She thinks me false! She cast a look that
kill'd me!

Oh! I am base in Sigismunda's eye!
The lowest of mankind, the most perfidious!
Rod. This was a strain of insolence indeed,
A daring outrage of so strange a nature
As stuns me quite-

Tan. Curs'd be my timid prudence,
That dash'd not back, that moment in bis face,
The bold presumptuous lie!—and curs'd this
hand,

Expect not this-Though practis'd long in That, from a start of poor dissimulation,

Rod. What can incense my prince so highly
Against his friend Siffredi !

Tan. Friend! Rodolpho,
[done,
When I have told thee what this friend has
How play'd me like a boy, a base-born wretch,
Who had nor heart nor spirit, thou wilt stand
Amaz'd, and wonder at my stupid patience.
Rod. I heard, with mix'd astonishment and
grief,

The king's unjust, dishonourable will,
Void in itself-I saw you stung with rage,
And writhing in the snare; just as I went,
At your command to wait you here-but that
Was the king's deed, not his.

Tan. Oh, he advis'd it!
These many years he has in secret hatch'd
This black contrivance, glories in the scheme,
And proudly plumes him with his traitorous
virtue.
[nothing!
But that was nought, Rodolpho, nothing,
Oh, that was gentle,blameless to what follow'd!
I had, my friend, to Sigismunda given,
To hush her fears, in the full gush of fondness,
A blank sign'd with my hand-and he, Oh,
Heavens!

Was ever such a wild attempt!-he wrote
Beneath my name an absolute compliance
To this detested will, nay, dar'd to read it
Before myself, on my insulted throne
His idle pageant plac'd--Oh, words are weak
To paint the pangs, the rage, the indignation,
That whirl'd from thought to thought my soul
in tempest,

Now on the point to burst, and now by shame
Repress'd-But in the face of Sicily,

Led off my Sigismunda's hated rival.

Ah, then what, poison'd by the false ap

Besides, consider, had you then detected
In its fresh guilt this action of Siffredi, [tis'd
You must with signal vengeance have chas-
The treasonable deed-Nothing so mean
As weak, insulted power that dares not punish.
And how would that have suited with your
love;
[conduct,
His daughter present too? Trust me, your
Howe'er abhorrent to a heart like yours,
Was fortunate and wise-Not that I mean,
E'er to advise submission-

Tan. Heavens! submission-
Could I descend to bear it, even in thought,
Despise me, you, the world, and Sigismunda!
Submission! No!-To-morrow's glorious
light

Shall flash discovery on the scene of baseness.
Whatever be the risk, by Heavens, to-morrow,
I will o'erturn the dirty lie-built schemes
Of these old men, and show my faithful senate
That Manfred's son knows to assert and wear,
With undiminish'd dignity, that crown
This unexpected day has plac'd upon him.
But this, my friend, these stormy gusts of pride
Are foreign to my love-Till Sigismunda
Be disabus'd, my breast is tumult all,

And can obey no settled course of reason.
I see her still, I feel her powerful image,
That look, where with reproach complaint
was mix'd,

Big with soft wo, and gentle indignation,
Which seem'd at once to pity and to scorn

me

Oh, let me find her! I too long have left
My Sigismunda to converse with tears,
A prey to thoughts that picture me a villain.
But ah! how, clogg'd with this accursed state,
A tedious world, shall I now find access?
Her father too-Ten thousand horrors crowd
Into the wild, fantastic eye of love-
Who knows what he may do? Come then,
my friend,

And by thy sister's hand, oh, let me steal
A letter to her bosom-1 no longer

Can bear her absence, by the just contempt
She now must brand me with, inflam'd to mad-

ness.

Sig. Ah, tyrant prince! ah more than faithless Tancred!

Ungenerous and inhuman in thy falsehood!
Hadst thou this morning, when my hopeless
heart,

Submissive to my fortune and my duty,
Had so much spirit left, as to be willing
To give thee back thy vows, ah! hadst thou
then

Thy looks were softness all; then the quick
In every nerve alive, forgot itself, [heart
And for each other then we felt alone.
But now, alas! those tender days are fled;
Now thou canst see me wretched, pierc'd with
anguish,

With studied anguish of thy own creating,
Nor wet thy harden'd eye-Hold, let me
think-

I wrong thee sure; thou canst not be so base,
As meanly in my misery to triumph-
What is it then?-'Tis fickleness of nature,
'Tis sickly love extinguish'd by ambition-
Is there, kind Heaven, no constancy in man?
No steadfast truth, no generous fix'd affection,
That can bear up against a selfish world?
No, there is none-Even Tancred is incon-
stant!
[Rising.
Hence! let me fly this scene!—Whate'er I

see,

These roofs, these walls, each object that sur-
rounds me,

Are tainted with his vows-But whither fly?
The groves are worse, the soft retreat of Bel-
mont,
[summits,
Its deepening glooms, gay lawns, and airy
Will wound my busy memory to torture,
And all its shades will whisper-faithless
Tancred!-

My father comes-How, sunk in this disorder,
Shall I sustain his presence?
Enter SIFFRedi.

Sif. Sigismunda,

My dearest child! I grieve to find thee thus
A prey to tears. I know the powerful cause
From which they flow, and therefore can ex-
cuse them,

But not their wilful, obstinate continuance.
Come, rouse thee, then, call up thy drooping
spirit,

Awake to reason from this dream of love, And show the world thou are Siffredi's daughter.

Sig. Alas! I am unworthy of that name. Sif. Thou art indeed to blame; thou hast too rashly Engag'd thy heart, without a father's sanction. Confess'd the sad necessity thy state [ship, But this Impos'd upon thee, and with gentle friend-That plead thy full excuse; nor was I void can forgive. The king has virtues, Since we must part at last, our parting soft- Of blame, to trust thee to those dangerous Then dread not my reproaches. Though he [blames, Thy tender father pitíes more than blames thee.

en'd;

I should indeed-I should have been unhappy,
But not to this extreme-Amidst my grief,
I had, with pensive pleasure, cherish'd still
The sweet remembrance of thy former love,
Thy image still had dwelt upon my soul,
And made our guiltless woes not undelightful.
But coolly thus-How couldst thou be so
cruel?-

Thus to revive my hopes, to sooth my love,
And call forth all its tenderness, then sink me
In black despair-What unrelenting pride
Possess'd thy breast, that thou couldst bear
unmov'd

To see me bent beneath a weight of shame?
Pangs thou canst never feel! How couldst
thou drag me,

In barbarous triumph at a rival's car?
How make me witness to a sight of horror?
That hand, which but a few short hours ago,
So wantonly abus'd my simple faith,
Before th' attesting world given to another,
Irrevocably given!-There was a time,
When the least cloud that hung upon my brow,
Perhaps imagin'd only, touch'd thy pity.
Then, brighten'd often by the ready tear,

virtues.

Thou art my daughter still; and, if thy heart
Will now resume its pride, assert itself,
And greatly rise, super or to this trial,
I to my warmest confidence again
Will take thee, and esteem thee more my
daughter.

Sig. Oh, you are gentler far than I deserve!
It is, it ever was, my darling pride,
To bend my soul to your supreme commands,
Your wisest will; and though, by love be-
tray'd-

Alas! and punish'd too-I have transgress'd
The nicest bounds of duty, yet I feel
A sentiment of tenderness, a source
Of filial nature springing in my breast,
That, should it kill me, shall control this
passion,

And make me all submission and obedience
To you, my honour'd lord, the best of fathers.
Sif. Come to my arms, thou comfort of iny

age!

Thou only joy and hope of these gray hairs!

Come, let me take thee to a parent's heart;
There, with the kindly aid of my advice,
Even with the dew of these paternal tears,
Revive and nourish this becoming spirit-
Then thou dost promise me, my Sigismunda-
Thy father stoops to make it his request-
Thou wilt resign thy fond, presumptuous hopes,
And henceforth never more indulge one
thought

That in the light of love regards the king?
Sig. Hopes I have none!-Those by this
fatal day
Are blasted all-But from my soul to banish,
While weeping memory there retains her seat,
Thoughts which the purest bosom might have
cherish'd,
[ing,
Once my delight, now even in anguish charm-
Is more, my lord, than I can promise.
Sif. Absence, and time, the softner of our
passions,
[thee
Will conquer this. Meantime, I hope from
A generous great effort; that thou wilt now
Exert thy utmost force, nor languish thus
Beneath the vain extravagance of love.
Let not thy father blush to hear it said,
His daughter was so weak, e'er to admit
A thought so void of reason, that a king
Should to his rank, his honour, and his glory,
The high important duties of a throne,
Even to his throne itself, madly prefer
A wild, romantic passion, the fond child
Of youthful dreaming thought and vacant
hours;
[tion,
That he should quit his Heaven-appointed sta-
Desert his awful charge, the care of all
The toiling millions which this isle contains ;
Nay more, should plunge them into war and
ruin,

And all to sooth a sick imagination,
A miserable weakness.-Must for thee,
To make thee bless'd, Sicilia be unhappy?
The king himself, lost to the nobler sense
Of manly praise, become the piteous hero
Of some soft tale, and rush on sure destruc-
tion !

Canst thou, my daughter, let the monstrous
thought

Possess one moment thy perverted fancy?
Rouse thee, for shame! and if a spark of

virtue

Lies slumbering in thy soul, bid it blaze forth;
Nor sink unequal to the glorious lesson,
This day thy lover gave thee from his throne.
Sig. Ah, that was not from virtue !-Had,
my father,

That been his aim, I yield to what you say;
"Tis powerful truth, unanswerable reason.
Then, then, with sad but duteous resignation,
I had submitted as became your daughter;
But in that moment, when my humbled hopes
Were to my duty reconcil'd, to raise them
To yet a fonder height than e'er they knew,
Then rudely dash them down-There is the
sting!

The blasting view is ever present to me-
Why did you drag me to a sight so cruel?
Sif. It was a scene to fire thy emulation.
Sig. It was a scene of perfidy!-But know,
I will do more than imitate the king-
For he is false !-I, though sincerely pierc'd
With the best, truest passion, ever touch'd
A virgin's breast, here vow to Heaven and you,
Though from my heart I cannot, from my hopes
To cast this prince-What would you more,
my father?

Sif. Yes, one thing more-thy father then
is happy-

Though by the voice of innocence and virtue
Absolv'd we live not to ourselves alone:
A rigorous world with peremptory sway,
Subjects us all, and even the noblest most.
This world from thee, my honour and thy ows,
Demands one step; a step, by which, convinc'd,
The king may see thy heart disdains to wear
A chain which his has greatly thrown aside.
"Tis fitting too, thy sex's pride commands thee,
To show th' approving world thou canst resign,
As well as he, nor with inferior spirit,
A passion fatal to the public weal.
But above all thou must root out for ever
From the king's breast the least remain of hope,
And henceforth make his mentioned love dis-

honour.

These things my daughter, that must needs
be done,

Can but this way be done by the safe refuge,
The sacred shelter of a husband's arms.
And there is one-

Sig. Good Heavens! what means my lord?
Sif. One of illustrious family, high rank,
Yet still of higher dignity and merit,
Who can and will protect thee; one to awe
The king himself-Nay, hear me, Sigis-

munda

The noble Osmond courts thee for his bride,
And has my plighted word-This day-
Sig. [Kneeling.] My father!

Let me with trembling arms embrace thy
knees?

Oh, if you ever wish to see me happy;
If e'er in infant years I gave you joy,
When, as I prattling twin'd around your neck,
You snatch'd me to your bosom, kiss'd my

eyes,

And melting said you saw my mother there;
Oh, save me from that worst severity

Of fate! Oh, outrage not my breaking heart
To that degree!-I cannot !-'tis impossible !--
So soon withdraw it, give it to another-
Hear me, my dearest father; hear the voice
Of nature and humanity, that plead,
As well as justice, for me!Not to choose
Without your wise direction may be duty;
But still my choice is free-that is a right,
Which even the lowest slave can never lose.
And would you thus degrade me?—make me
base?

For such it were to give my worthless person
Without my heart, an injury to Osmond,
The highest can be done.-Let me, my lord-
Or I shall die, shall by the sudden change,
Be to distraction shock'd-Let me wear out
My hapless days in solitude and silence,
Far from the malice of a prying world!
At least-you cannot sure refuse me this
Give me a little time-I will do all,
All I can do, to please you! -Oh, your eye
Sheds a kind beam—

Sif. My daughter! you abuse
The softness of my nature-

Sig. Here, my father,

Till you relent, here will I grow for ever!
Sif. Rise, Sigismunda.-Though you touch
my heart,

Nothing can shake th' inexorable dictates
Of honour, duty, and determin'd reason.
Then, by the holy ties of filial love,

Resolve, I charge thee, to receive Earl Osmond,
As suits the man who is thy father's choice,
And worthy of thy hand-I go to bring him-
Sig. Spare me, my dearest father!
From her soft grasp, or nature will betray me!
Sif. [Aside.] I must rush
Oh, grant us, Heaven! that fortitude of mind,