We shall not long be parted. On these eyes Sleep shall not shed his balm, till I behold thee

SCENE I-A Chamber,

Enter SIFFREDI.

Sif. THE prospect lowers around. I found the king,

Though calmed a little, with subsiding tempest, As suits his generous nature, yet in love Abated nought, most ardent in his purpose; Inexorably fixed, whate'er the risk,

To claim my daughter, and dissolve this marriage

I have embarked, upon a perilous sea,
A mighty treasure. Here the rapid youth,
The impetuous passions of a lover king,
Check my bold purpose; and there, the jealous
pride,

The impatient honour, of a haughty lord,
Of the first rank, in interest and dependance
Near equal to the king, forbid retreat.
My honour, too, the same unchanged conviction,
That these my measures were, and still remain,
Of absolute necessity, to save

The land from civil fury, urge me on.
But how proceed?—————I only faster rush
Upon the desperate evils I would shun.
Whatever the motive be, deceit, I fear,
And harsh unnatural force, are not the means
Of public welfare, or of private bliss.-
Bear witness, Heaven! thou mind inspecting eye!
My breast is pure. I have preferred my duty,
The good and safety of my fellow-subjects,
To all those views that fire the selfish race
Of mortal men, and mix them in eternal broils.

Enter an Officer belonging to SIFFREDI. Offi. My lord, a man of noble port, his face Wrapped in disguise, is earnest for admission. Sif. Go, bid him enter- [Officer goes out. Ha! wrapped in disguise!

And at this late unseasonable hour!
When o'er the world tremendous midnight reigns,|
By the dire gloom of raging tempest doubled!

Enter OSMOND, discovering himself.

Sif. What! ha! earl Osmond, you ?———Wel

On my parole, ere dawn to render back
My person, has permitted me this freedom.
Know then, the faithless outrage of to-day,
By him committed whom you call the king,
Has roused Constantia's court. Our friends, the
friends

Of virtue, justice, and of public faith,
Ripe for revolt, are in high ferment all.
This, this, they say, exceeds whate'er deformed
The miserable days we saw beneath
William the Bad. This saps the solid base,
At once, of government and private life:
This shameless imposition on the faith,
The majesty of senates, this lewd insult,
This violation of the rights of men;
Added to these, his ignominious treatment
Of her, the illustrious offspring of our kings,
Sicilia's hope, and now our royal mistress.
You know, my lord, how grossly these infringe
The late king's will; which orders, if count Tan-
cred

Make not Constantia partner of his throne,
That he be quite excluded the succession,
And she to Henry given, king of the Romans,
The potent emperor Barbarossa's son,
Who seeks, with earnest instance, her alliance.
I thence of you, as guardian of the laws,
As guardian of this will, to you intrusted,
Desire, nay, more, demand your instant aid,
To see it put in vigorous execution.

Sif. You cannot doubt, my lord, of my con

currence.

Who, more than 1, have laboured this great

point?

'Tis my own plan; and if I drop it now,
I should be justly branded with the shame
Of rash advice, or despicable weakness.
But let us not precipitate the matter.
Constantia's friends are numerous and strong;
Yet Tancred's, trust me, are of equal force:
F'er since the secret of his birth was known,
The people all are in a tumult hurled,

come, once more,

mise!

I have his faith, soon as to-morrow's sun
Shall gild Sicilia's cliffs, you shall be free.
Has some good angel turned his heart to justice?
Osm. It is not by the favour of count Tancred
That I am here. As much I scorn his favour,
As I defy his tyranny and threats.——————

Our friend Goffredo, who commands the castle,

Will, with a kind of rage, espouse his cause. 'Tis so, my lord-be not by passion blinded'Tis surely so.- -Oh, if our prating virtue Dwells not in words alone-Oh, let us join, My generous Osmond, to avert these woes, And yet sustain our tottering Norman kingdom! Osm. But how, Siffredi, how?-If, by soft

means,

We can maintain our rights, and save our country,

May his unnatural blood first stain the sword,
Who, with unpitying fury, first shall draw it!
Sif. I have a thought-The glorious work be
thine!

But it requires an awful flight of virtue,
Above the passions of the vulgar breast,
And thence from thee I hope it, noble Osmond.
-Suppose my daughter, to her god devoted,
Were placed within some convent's sacred verge,
Beneath the dread protection of the altar.-
Osm. Ere then, by Heavens! I would devout-
ly shave

My holy scalp, turn whining monk myself,
And pray incessant for the tyrant's safety.
What! how! because an insolent invader,
A sacrilegious tyrant, in contempt

Of all those noblest rights, which to maintain
Is man's peculiar pride, demands my wife;
That I shall thus betray the common cause
Of human kind!-

Tamely yield her up,

Even in the manner you propose !—Oh, then
I were supremely vile! degraded! shamed!
The scorn of manhood! and abhorred of honour!
Sit. There is, my lord, an honour, the calm
child

Of reason, of humanity, and mercy,
Superior far to this punctilious damon,
That singly minds itself, and oft embroils,
With proud barbarian niceties, the world.
Osm. My lord, my lord, I cannot brook your
prudence;

It holds a pulse unequal to my blood-
Unblemished honour is the flower of virtue !
The vivifying soul! and he, who slights it,
Will leave the other dull and lifeless dross.
Sif. No more-you are too warm.
Osm. You are too cool.

Sif. Too cool, my lord? I were indeed too cool,
Not to resent this language, and to tell thee-
I wish earl Osmond were as cool as I
To his own selfish bliss-ay, and as warm
To that of others-But of this no more-
My daughter is thy wife-I gave her to thee,
And will, against all force, maintain her thine.
But think not I will catch thy headlong passions,
Whirled in a blaze of madness o'er the land;
Or, till the last extremity compel me,

Risk the dire means of war-The king, to mor

row,

Will set you free; and, if by gentle means,
He does not yield my daughter to your arms,
And wed Constantia, as the will requires,
Why then expect me on the side of justice—
Let that suffice.

Osm. It does-Forgive my heat,
My rankled mind, by injuries inflamed,
May be too prompt to take, and give offence.
Sif. 'Tis past-Your wrongs, I own, may well
transport

The wisest mind-But henceforth, noble Osmond,
Do me more justice, honour more my truth,
Nor mark me with an eye of squint suspicion.
These jars apart, you may repose your soul
On my firm faith, and unremitting friendship.
Of that I sure have given exalted proof,
And the next sun we see shall prove it further.
Return, my son, and from your friend Goffredo
Release your word. There try, by soft repose,
To calm your breast.

Osm. Bid the vext ocean sleep,
Swept by the pinions of the raging north-
But your frail age, by care and toil exhausted,
Demands the balm of all repairing rest.

Sif. Soon as to-morrow's dawn shall streak the skies,

I, with my friends, in solemn state assembled,
Will to the palace, and demand your freedom;
Then by calm reason, or by higher means,
The king shall quit his claim, and in the face
Of Sicily, my daughter shall be yours.
Farewell.

The king too-though I smothered up my rage,
I marked it well-will set me free to-morrow.
Why not to-night? He has some dark design—
By heavens, he has !-I am abused most grossly;
Made the vile tool of this old statesman's schemes;
Married to one-ay, and he knew it-one
Who loves young Tancred! Hence her swooning,
tears,

And all her soft distress, when she disgraced me,
By basely giving her perfidious hand
Without her heart-Hell and perdition! this,
This is the perfidy !—this is the fell,
The keen, envenomed, exquisite disgrace,
Which, to a man of honour, even exceeds
The falsehood of the person-But I now
Will rouse me from the poor tame lethargy,
By my believing fondness cast upon me.
I will not wait his crawling timid motions,
Perhaps to blind me meant, which he to-morrow
Has promised to pursue. No! ere his eyes
Shall open on to-morrow's orient beam,

I will convince him that earl Osmond never
Was formed to be his.dupe-I know full well
The important weight and danger of the deed:
But to a man, whom greater dangers press,
Driven to the brink of infamy and horror,
Rashness itself, and utter desperation,
Are the best prudence.-I will bear her off
This night, and lodge her in a place of safety:
I have a trusty band that waits not far.
Hence! let me lose no time--One rapid moment

Sig. All aid is vain;

I feel the powerful hand of death upon meBut, oh! it sheds a sweetness through my fate, That I am thine again; and, without blame, May in my Tancred's arms resign my soul!

Tan. Oh, death is in that voice! so gently
mild,

So sadly sweet, as mixes even with mine
The tears of hovering angels!-Mine again !—
And is it thus the cruel fates have joined us?
Are these the horrid nuptials they prepare
For love like ours?-Is virtue thus rewarded?

Let not my impious rage accuse just Heaven!
Thou, Tancred, thou, hast murdered Sigismunda!
That furious man was but the tool of fate,
I, I the cause !-But I will do thee justice
On this deaf heart! that to thy tender wisdom
Refused an ear-Yes, death shall soon unite us.
Sig. Live, live, my Tancred!-Let my death
suffice

To expiate all that may have been amiss.
May it appease the fates, avert their fury
From thy propitious reign! Meantime, of me
And of thy glory mindful, live, I charge thee,
To guard our friends, and make thy people hap-
py-

Enter SIFFREDI, fixed in astonishment and grief.
My father!—Oh, how shall I lift my eyes
To thee, my sinking father!

Sif. Awful Heaven!

I am chastised

-My dearest child!

With barbarous friendship, to the rack of life!
What hand can shut the thousand thousand gates,
Which death still opens to the woes of mortals?—
I shall find means-No power in earth or heaven
Can force me to endure the hateful light,
Thus robbed of all that lent it joy and sweet-
ness!

Off, traitors, off! or my distracted soul
Will burst indignant from this jail of nature,
To where she beckons yonder-No, mild seraph,
Point not to life-I cannot linger here,
Cut off from thee, the miserable pity,
The scorn of humankind!-A trampled king!
Who let his mean poor-hearted love one mo-

ment

To coward prudence stoop! who made it not
The first undoubting action of his reign,
To snatch thee to his throne, and there to shield
thee,

Thy helpless bosom, from a ruffian's fury!
Oh, shame! Oh, agony! Oh, the fell stings
Of late, of vain repentance!- -Ha, my brain
Is all on fire! a wild abyss of thought!

The infernal world discloses! See! Behold him!
Lo! with fierce smiles he shakes the bloody steel,
And mocks my feeble tears.-Hence, quickly,

hence!

My poor afflicted father's age-Rodolpho,
Now is the time to watch the unhappy king,
With all the care and tenderness of friendship.
Oh, my dear father, bowed beneath the weight
Of age and grief-the victim even of virtue,
Receive my last adieu!-Where art thou, Tan-
cred?

Give me thy hand-But, ah,-it cannot save me
From the dire king of terrors, whose cold power
Creeps o'er my heart- -Oh!

Tan. How these pangs distract me

!

What am I? Where?

Sad, silent all? The forms of dumb despair,
Around some mournful tomb.-What do I see?
This soft abode of innocence and love
Turned to the house of death! a place of hor-
ror!-

Ah, that poor corse! pale! pale! deformed with murder!

then!

[Throws himself down by her. Sif. After a pathetic pause, looking on the scene before him.

Have I lived

To these enfeebled years, by heaven reserved
To be a dreadful monument of justice?-
Rodolpho, raise the king, and bear him hence
From this distracting scene of blood and death.
Alas, I dare not give him my assistance;
My care would only more inflame his rage.
Behold the fatal work of my dark hand,
That by rude force the passions would com-
mand,