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).