'Tis consecrate
To St. Cecilia; deep in forest shades,
Beyond the woody ridge that slowly climbs
Toward's Etna's towering throne, it seems a refuge
Of parted souls!

DON CAESAR.
Have courage, trust thy sons;
She shall be thine, though with unwearied quest
O'er every land and sea I track her presence
To earth's extremest bounds: one thought alone
Disturbs,--in stranger hands my timorous bride
Waits my return; to thy protecting arms
I give the pledge of all my joy! She comes;
Soon on her faithful bosom thou shalt rest
In sweet oblivion of thy cares.
[Exit.

ISABELLA.
When will the ancient curse be stilled that weighs
Upon our house? Some mocking demon sports
With every new-formed hope, nor envious leaves
One hour of joy. So near the haven smiled--
So smooth the treacherous main--secure I deemed
My happiness: the storm was lulled; and bright
In evening's lustre gleamed the sunny shore!
Then through the placid air the tempest sweeps,
And bears me to the roaring surge again!

[She goes into the interior of the palace,
followed by DIEGO.

The Scene changes to the Garden.

Both Choruses, afterwards BEATRICE.

The Chorus of DON MANUEL enters in solemn procession,
adorned with garlands, and bearing the bridal ornaments
above mentioned. The Chorus of DON CAESAR opposes their
entrance.

First Chorus (CAJETAN).
Begone!

Second Chorus (BOHEMUND).
Not at thy bidding!

CAJETAN.
Seest thou not
Thy presence irks?

BOHEMUND.
Thou hast it, then, the longer!

CAJETAN.
My place is here! What arm repels me?

BOHEMUND,
Mine!

CAJETAN.
Don Manuel sent me hither.

BOHEMUND.
I obey
My Lord Don Caesar.

CAJETAN.
To the eldest born
Thy master reverence owes.

BOHEMUND.
The world belongs
To him that wins!

CAJETAN.
Unmannered knave, give place!

BOHEMUND.
Our swords be measured first!

CAJETAN.
I find thee ever
A serpent in my path.

BOHEMUND.
Where'er I list
Thus will I meet thee!

CAJETAN.
Say, why cam'st thou hither
To spy?----

BOHEMUND.
And thou to question and command?

CAJETAN.
To parley I disdain!

BOHEMUND.
Too much I grace thee
By words!

CAJETAN.
Thy hot, impetuous youth should bow
To reverend age.

BOHEMUND.
Older thou art--not braver.

BEATRICE