(rushing from her place of concealment).
Alas! What mean these warlike men?

CAJETAN (to BOHEMUND).
I heed not
Thy threats and lofty mien.

BOHEMUND.
I serve a master
Better than thine.

BEATRICE.
Alas! Should he appear!

CAJETAN.
Thou liest! Don Manuel thousandfold excels.

BOHEMUND.
In every strife the wreath of victory decks
Don Caesar's brows!

BEATRICE.
Now he will come! Already
The hour is past!

CAJETAN.
'Tis peace, or thou shouldst know
My vengeance!

BOHEMUND.
Fear, not peace, thy arm refrains.

BEATRICE.
Oh! Were he thousand miles remote!

CAJETAN.
Thy looks
But move my scorn; the compact I obey.

BOHEMUND.
The coward's ready shield!

CAJETAN.
Come on! I follow.

BOHEMUND.
To arms!

BEATRICE (in the greatest agitation).
Their falchions gleam--the strife begins!
Ye heavenly powers, his steps refrain! Some snare
Throw round his feet, that in this hour of dread
He come not: all ye angels, late implored
To give him to my arms, reverse my prayers;
Far, far from hence convey the loved one!

[She runs into the alcove. At the moment when the two
Choruses are about to engage, DON MANUEL appears.

DON MANUEL, the Chorus.

DON MANUEL.
What do I see!

First Chorus to the Second (CAJETAN, BERENGAR, MANFRED).
Come on! Come on!

Second Chorus (BOHEMUND, ROGER, HIPPOLYTE).
Down with them!

DON MANUEL (stepping between them with drawn sword).
Hold!

CAJETAN.
'Tis the prince!

BOHEMUND.
Be still!

DON MANUEL.
I stretch him dead
Upon this verdant turf that with one glance
Of scorn prolongs the strife, or threats his foe!
Why rage ye thus? What maddening fiend impels
To blow the flames of ancient hate anew,
Forever reconciled? Say, who began
The conflict? Speak----

First Chorus (CAJETAN, BERENGAR).
My prince, we stood----

Second Chorus (ROGER, BOHEMUND) interrupting them.
They came

DON MANUEL (to the First Chorus).
Speak thou!

First Chorus (CAJETAN).
With wreaths adorned, in festal train,
We bore the bridal gifts; no thought of ill
Disturbed our peaceful way; composed forever
With holy pledge of love we deemed your strife,
And trusting came; when here in rude array
Of arms encamped they stood, and loud defied us!

DON MANUEL.
Slave! Is no