For this last is a malady which slays | |
More than are number’d in the lists of Fate, | |
Taking all shapes, and bearing many names. | |
Look upon me! for even of all these things | |
150 | Have I partaken; and of all these things, |
One were enough; then wonder not that I | |
Am what I am, but that I ever was, | |
Or having been, that I am still on earth. | |
ABBOT | |
MANFRED | |
155 | Thine order, and revere thine years; I deem |
Thy purpose pious, but it is in vain: | |
Think me not churlish; I would spare thyself, | |
Far more than me, in shunning at this time | |
All further colloquy – and so – farewell. | |
[ | |
160 | ABBOT |
Hath all the energy which would have made | |
A goodly frame of glorious elements, | |
Had they been wisely mingled; as it is, | |
It is an awful chaos — light and darkness — | |
165 | And mind and dust – and passions and pure thoughts |
Mix’d, and contending without end or order, | |
All dormant or destructive: he will perish, | |
And yet he must not; I will try once more, | |
For such are worth redemption; and my duty | |
170 | Is to dare all things for a righteous end. |
I’ll follow him – but cautiously, though surely. | |
[ | |
SCENE II | |
Another Chamber. | |
[ | |
HERMAN | |
He sinks behind the mountain. | |
MANFRED | |
I will look on him. | |
[ | |
Glorious Orb! the idol | |
Of early nature, and the vigorous race | |
5 | Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons |
Of the embrace of angels, with a sex | |
More beautiful than they, which did draw down | |
The erring spirits who can ne’er return. – | |
Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ere | |
10 | The mystery of thy making was reveal’d! |
Thou earliest minister of the Almighty, | |
Which gladden’d, on their mountain tops, the hearts | |
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they pour’d | |
Themselves in orisons! Thou material God! | |
15 | And representative of the Unknown – |
Who chose thee for his shadow! Thou chief star! | |
Centre of many stars! which mak’st our earth | |
Endurable, and temperest the hues | |
And hearts of all who walk within thy rays! | |
20 | Sire of the seasons! Monarch of the climes, |
And those who dwell in them! for near or far, | |
Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee | |
Even as our outward aspects; — thou dost rise, | |
And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well! | |
25 | I ne’er shall see thee more. As my first glance |
Of love and wonder was for thee, then take | |
My latest look: thou wilt not beam on one | |
To whom the gifts of life and warmth have been | |
Of a more fatal nature. He is gone: | |
30 | I follow. |
[ | |
SCENE III | |
The Mountains — The Castle of Manfred at some distance — A Terrace before a Tower. — Time, Twilight. | |
[ | |
HERMAN | |
He hath pursued long vigils in this tower, | |
Without a witness. I have been within it, – | |
So have we all been oft-times; but from it, | |
5 | Or its contents, it were impossible |
To draw conclusions absolute, of aught | |
His studies tend to. To be sure, there is | |
One chamber where none enter: I would give | |
The fee of what I have to come these three years, | |
10 | To pore upon its mysteries. |
MANUEL | |
Content thyself with what thou know’st already. | |
HERMAN | |
And couldst say much; thou hast dwelt within the castle – | |
How many years is’t? | |
MANUEL | |
15 | I served his father, whom he nought resembles. |
HERMAN | |
But wherein do they differ? | |
MANUEL | |
Of features or of form, but mind and habits; | |
Count Sigismund was proud, – but gay and free, - | |
20 | A warrior and a reveller; he dwelt not |
With books and solitude, nor made the night | |
A gloomy vigil, but a festal time, | |
Merrier than day; he did not walk the rocks | |
And forests like a wolf, nor turn aside | |
25 | From men and their delights. |
HERMAN | |
But those were jocund times! I would that such | |
Would visit the old walls again; they look | |
As if they had forgotten them. | |
MANUEL | |
Must change their chieftain first. Oh! I have seen | |
30 | Some strange things in them, Herman. |
HERMAN | |
Relate me some to while away our watch: | |
I’ve heard thee darkly speak of an event | |
Which happen’d hereabouts, by this same tower. | |
MANUEL | |
35 | ’Twas twilight, as it may be now, and such |
Another evening; – yon red cloud, which rests | |
On Eigher’s pinnacle, so rested then, – | |
So like that it might be the same; the wind | |
Was faint and gusty, and the mountain snows | |
40 | Began to glitter with the climbing moon; |
Count Manfred was, as now, within his tower, – | |
How occupied, we knew not, but with him | |
The sole companion of his wanderings | |
And watchings – her, whom of all earthly things | |
45 | That lived, the only thing he seem’d to love, — |
As he, indeed, by blood was bound to do, | |
The lady Astarte, his — | |
Hush! who comes here? | |
[ | |
ABBOT | |
HERMAN | |
ABBOT | |
MANUEL | |
50 | He is most private, and must not be thus |
Intruded on. | |
ABBOT | |
The forfeit of my fault, if fault there be – | |
But I must see him. | |
HERMAN | |
This eve already. | |
ABBOT | |
55 | Knock, and apprize the Count of my approach. |
HERMAN | |
ABBOT | |
Of my own purpose. | |
MANUEL | |
I pray you pause. | |
ABBOT | |
MANUEL | |
And I will tell you further. | |
[ | |
SCENE | |
Interior of the Tower. | |
[ | |
The stars are forth, the moon above the tops | |
Of the snow-shining mountains. — Beautiful! | |
I linger yet with Nature, for the night | |
Hath been to me a more familiar face | |
5 | Than that of man; and in her starry shade |
Of dim and solitary loveliness, | |
I learn’d the language of another world. | |
I do remember me, that in my youth, | |
When I was wandering, – upon such a night | |
10 | I stood within the Coliseum’s wall, |
Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome; | |
The trees which grew along the broken arches |