[BEATRICE starts back in amazement. He remarks her agitation,
and after a pause continues.

What a grace
Lives in thy soft surprise and modest silence!
Yes! gentle humbleness is beauty's crown--
The beautiful forever hid, and shrinking
From its own lustre: but thy spirit needs
Repose, for aught of strange--e'en sudden joy--
Is terror-fraught. I leave thee.

[Turning to the Chorus.
From this hour
She is your mistress, and my bride; so teach her
With honors due to entertain the pomp
Of queenly state. I will return with speed,
And lead her home as fits Messina's princess.

[He goes away.

BEATRICE and the Chorus.

Chorus (BOHEMUND).

Fair maiden--hail to thee
Thou lovely queen!
Thine is the crown, and thine the victory!
Of heroes to a distant age,
The blooming mother thou shalt shine,