University of Virginia Library

PRELUDE.

An open Court in the Temple of Jerusalem surrounded by cloisters of white marble. In the centre a fountain playing. On the left, resting against a pillar, the Blessed Virgin Mary, as a child, fast asleep; at her side vases containing rose-trees in bloom, and delicate aromatic plants. Angels around keeping watch. Dawn slowly breaks. Distant chant of Priests.
ITHURIEL.(Chief of the Angelic Guard).
Comrades, our sacred charge,
Who all night long upon this marble pavement,
Like a pale lily bent, was pouring forth
Her most ambrosial sighs into the ear
Of her eternal Father, now at length
Has yielded her young nature to repose.
Morning returns emblazoning with gold
Yon eastern pinnacle. The hideous storm
Raised by the vagrant spirits of the night,
Which seem'd to shake this temple to its base,
Is past;—no cloud appears;
And through the spicy air softly diffused
A halcyon calm is basking, as becomes
This day of our young Queen's Nativity,
The seventh in its order since she came
Immaculate into a world defiled.
A day it is well worthy of observance
Now as in after-time; and our custom
Has been to celebrate it hitherto
With song and festal show, in entertainment
Of this dear Maid. Now, therefore, Azael,
Most bright deviser of our pageantries,
Say, what new mystery hast thou prepared
For this auspicious morn, which thrills the world
With life, and joy, and glad expectancy?
Last year thine art was most felicitous,
Bringing before our eyes, as I remember,
The happy pastoral times; and setting forth,
With infinite delight to this fair soul,
As in a drama, Abraham's sacrifice
Of Isaac on the holy Mount of Vision,
Timely averted by an angel's hand.

AZAEL.
Dread Lord, our mystery of to-day attempts
After the manner of a sacred masque,
To represent by aid of a Procession,
In contrast with unhappy Eva's fall,
The glories of this heaven-created Child;
Personifying the early Patriarchs,
As we remember each in face and garb,
While journeying on his earthly pilgrimage,
Now in the groves of Paradise at rest.
These, as they pass, in turn will homage pay
To this new blossom of their ancient tree;
Felicitating in triumphant strains
The birthday morn of Her, in whom alone
The hope of poor mortality is hid.
All was prepared, and we were busy choosing
Last night our parts, when of a sudden leapt
The tempest down, and summon'd us away
To the defence of this all-sacred head,
From the satanic crew that strove so hard
To sweep into the bottomless abyss
Our Temple and its Treasure.

ITHURIEL.
It was well.
First among all our duties was enjoin'd us,
By Michael the Archangel, our high Prince,
Ever by day and night with heedful watch
To guard this paragon of innocence
From her innumerable relentless foes
Headed by false apostate Lucifer.
This task ye well perform'd, Angelic powers:
Exultingly I mark'd each several deed,
While Hell in vain before your serried front
Its nether depth upheaved. Now, therefore, go,
Ye who this entertainment have in charge,
And what remains complete with diligence;
For I expect some princely visitors
With the first slanting sunbeam, in high state
Coming from bright Italia, to salute
The Queen of Sion, and perchance to stay
As your spectators. We, who here remain,
Will sing meanwhile in this fair sleeper's ear
Our birthday song of gratulation,
Blending and parting in alternate strains.

[Exeunt Azael and Companions.
Enter Herald, with a banner inscribed Roma and surmounted by a golden eagle.
HERALD.
Most mighty Prince!
Foremost among the Chivalry of Heaven!
Know that the Angels of Italia,
With their high Potentate the Guardian
Of world-subjecting Rome, moved by report
Of Palestine's new wonder, have arrived;
And crave permission of thee to behold
The world's young joy.

ITHURIEL.
They are most welcome here.

Enter, in glistening apparel, the Tutelary Angels of Rome and other Italian Cities.
TUTELARY ANGEL OF ROME
(kneeling to Mary).
Hail thou, of love and fear and holy hope
Mother that art to be! Hail, woman blest
Above all women! Mightier than all
Before or after thee! Effulgent Mirror
Wholly untouch'd by breath of primal sin!
Brightness of light eternal! within whom
Nothing defiled hath place. All beautiful!
Lovelier than Cherubim or Seraphim!
Surpassing all th' Angelic Hierarchies
Temple and throne of blazing Deity!
Praise, lustre, excellence, of humankind!
Through whom celestial dove-like peace returns
To the long-ruffled and disordered world!
Who shalt on earth ineffably conceive
The Lord of Heav'n. Hail, living Fount of Life!
From whom the Maker of the Universe,
The Father's consubstantial Word and Son,
Shall into His eternal Person take
Perfect humanity, thenceforth to be
Inseparably His for evermore;
So with a new regenerated race
To fill our vacant thrones! Virgin august!
As yet amid celestial sovereignties
Only by dim anticipation known,
But now, in thy predestinated time,
Beginning partially to be reveal'd!
[Laying his crown at her feet
Never again since I have Mary seen
Shall glitter on this humbled brow of mine
Great Rome's imperial diadem; hers it is,
And mine by right no more. Accept it then,
Dear unexampled glory of the world!
Unworthy to adorn thy sacred head,
Hardly deserving at thy feet a place.

ITHURIEL.
Most noble Potentate, in the behalf
Of this fair Daughter of Jerusalem
And Queen of holy Sion, we accept
Your loving worship; and the time shall be
When Mary to your Rome a hundredfold
This homage shall repay; if but aright
I read the course of ages faintly traced
In prophecy, or by conjecture weigh'd.
And now, in grateful token of our thanks,
I bid you to a Pageant, each and all,
Prepared amongst us in a simple fashion
For the diversion of this royal Child;
Which presently commencing will conclude
As we expect, ere the meridian sun
Lies mirror'd on your Adriatic wave.

ANGEL OF ROME.
We count ourselves most fortunate; already
Fame of your Mysteries hath reached our ear.

AZAEL
(re-entering).
All is complete, my Prince: we do but wait
For your commands.

ITHURIEL.
Begin then, Azael;
While in their chalices are sparkling yet
The dewdrops of the morn.

AZAEL.
Please you that we
Awake our Lady first?

ITHURIEL.
Nay, as I think,
Better she slumber on; for much she needs,
After the rabid uproar of last night,
Some genial balm. Nor will your Spectacle
Less clearly pass before her inward gaze,
Than if those sacred eyelids had unclasp'd
Their golden fringe; finding an easy entrance,
Beneath the semblance of a mystic dream,
In that exact proportion best befitting
Her present grace and knowledge. Such the power
That to angelic ministries belongs.

[Exit Azael. The rest arrange themselves for the spectacle behind Our Lady.