DON CAESAR (dropping her hand, and stepping back).
For our mother?
BEATRICE (hiding her head in his breast).
Live
For her and for thy sister!
Chorus (BOHEMUND).
She has won!
Resistless are her prayers. Despairing mother,
Awake to hope again—his choice is made!
Thy son shall live!
[At this moment an anthem is heard. The folding doors
are thrown open, and in the church is seen the catafalque
erected, and the coffin surrounded with candlesticks.
DON CAESAR (turning to the coffin).
I will not rob thee, brother!
The sacrifice is thine:—Hark! from the tomb,
Mightier than mother's tears, or sister's love,
Thy voice resistless cries:—my arms enfold
A treasure, potent with celestial joys,
To deck this earthly sphere, and make a lot
Worthy the gods! but shall I live in bliss,
While in the tomb thy sainted innocence
Sleeps unavenged? Thou, Ruler of our days,
All just—all wise—let not the world behold
Thy partial care! I saw her tears!—enough—
They flowed for me! I am content: my brother!
I come!
[He stabs himself with a dagger, and falls dead
at his sister's feet. She throws herself into her
mother's arms.
Chorus, CAJETAN (after a deep silence).
In dread amaze I stand, nor know
If I should mourn his fate. One truth revealed
Speaks in my breast;—no good supreme is life;
But all of earthly ills the chief is—Guilt!
THE END
ON THE USE OF THE CHORUS IN TRAGEDY.
A poetical work must vindicate itself: if the execution be defective, little aid can be derived from commentaries.