They mix with our Provençals, and assume
A guise of mirth, but it sits hardly on them.
"Twere worth a thousand festivals, to see

With what a bitter and unnatural effort
They strive to smile!

FIRST NOBLE.

Is this Vittoria fair?

SECOND Noble.

Of a most noble mien; but yet her beauty
Is wild and awful, and her large dark eye,
In its unsettled glances, hath strange power,
From which thou 'lt shrink, as I did.

FIRST NOBLE.

Hush! they come.

Enter ERIBERT, VITTORIA, CONSTANCE, and others.

ERIBERT.

Welcome, my noble friends!-there must not lower
One clouded brow to-day in Sicily!

Behold my bride!

NOBLES.

Receive our homage, lady!

VITTORIA.

I bid all welcome. May the feast we offer

Prove worthy of such guests!

ERIBERT.

Look on her, friends!

And say, if that majestic brow is not

Meet for a diadem?

VITTORIA.

"Tis well, my lord!

When memory's pictures fade, 'tis kindly done

To brighten their dimm'd hues!

FIRST NOBLE (apart).

Mark'd you her glance?

SECOND NOBLE (apart).

What eloquent scorn was there! yet he, th' elate

Of heart, perceives it not.

ERIBERT.

Now to the feast!

Constance, you look not joyous. I have said

That all should smile to-day.

CONSTANCE.

Forgive me, brother!

The heart is wayward, and its garb of pomp

At times oppresses it.

Voices of woe, and prayers of agony

Unto my soul have risen, and left sad sounds
There echoing still. Yet would I fain be gay,
Since 'tis your wish.-In truth, I should have been
A village-maid!

ERIBERT.

But, being as you are,

Not thus ignobly free, command your looks (They may be taught obedience) to reflect The aspect of the time.

VITTORIA.

And know, fair maid!

That if in this unskill'd, you stand alone

Amidst our court of pleasure.

ERIBERT.

To the feast!

Now let the red wine foam!-There should be mirth

When conquerors revel!-Lords of this fair isle!

Your good swords' heritage, crown each bowl, and pledge

The present and the future! for they both

Look brightly on us. Dost thou smile, my bride?

VITTORIA.

Yes, Eribert !-thy prophecies of joy

Have taught e'en me to smile.

ERIBERT.

"Tis well. To day

I have won a fair and almost royal bride;
To-morrow-let the bright sun speed his course,
To waft me happiness !-my proudest foes
Must die-and then my slumber shall be laid
On rose-leaves, with no envious fold, to mar
The luxury of its visions!-Fair Vittoria,
Your looks are troubled!

VITTORIA.

It is strange, but, oft,

'Midst festal songs and garlands, o'er my soul
Death comes, with some dull image! as you spoke
Of those whose blood is claim'd, I thought for them.
Who, in a darkness thicker than the night

E'er wove with all her clouds, have pined so long:
How blessed were the stroke which makes them things
Of that invisible world, wherein, we trust,
There is, at least, no bondage!-But should we
From such a scene as this, where all earth's joys
Contend for mastery, and the very sense

Of life is rapture; should we pass, I say,

At once from such excitements to the void

And silent gloom of that which doth await us—
-Were it not dreadful?

ERIBERT.

They ill beseem the hour.

Banish such dark thoughts!

VITTORIA.

There is no hour

Of this mysterious world, in joy or woe,

But they beseem it well!-Why, what a slight,
Impalpable bound is that, th' unseen, which severs
Being from death!—And who can tell how near
Its misty brink he stands?

FIRST NOBLE (aside).

What mean her words?

SECOND NOBLE.

There's some dark mystery here.

ERIBERT.

No more of this!

Pour the bright juice which Etna's glowing vines

Yield to the conquerors! And let music's voice

Dispel these ominous dreams!-Wake, harp and song! Swell out your triumph!