The aspect and the form of breathing men. But grief should be the instructor of the wise; 10 Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the most Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal 50 truth, The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life. Philosophy and science, and the springs Of wonder, and the wisdom of the world, 15 I have essay'd, and in my mind there is A power to make these subject to itselfBut they avail not: I have done men good, And I have met with good even among men But this avail'd not: I have had my foes, 20 And none have baffled, many fallen before me But this avail'd not:-Good, or evil, life, Powers, passions, all I see in other beings, Have been to me as rain unto the sands, Since that all-nameless hour. I have no dread, 55 60 25 And feel the curse to have no natural fear, Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes 65 or wishes, Or lurking love of something on the earth. Mysterious agency! Ye, who do compass earth about, and dwell 35 I call upon ye by the written charm They come not yet.-Now by the voice of Who is the first among you-by this sign, of him 70 75 80 [A pause. 85 If it be so-Spirits of earth and air, 45 The burning wreck of a demolish'd world, The thought which is within me and around me, I do compel ye to my will-Appear! 90 [A star is seen at the darker end of the gallery: it is stationary; and a voice is heard singing. First Spirit Mortal! to thy bidding bow'd, Voice of the Second Spirit Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains; They crown'd him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow. Around his waist are forests braced, The avalanche in his hand; I am the spirit of the place, Voice of the Third Spirit In the blue depth of the waters, Thy wishes unfold! Fourth Spirit Where the slumbering earthquake Lies pillow'd on fire, And the lakes of bitumen Rise boilingly higher; Where the roots of the Andes Strike deep in the earth, As their summits to heaven Shoot soaringly forth; I have quitted my birthplace, Thy bidding to bideThy spell hath subdued me, Thy will be my guide! Fifth Spirit I am the rider of the wind, Is yet with lightning warm; The fleet I met sail'd well, and yet "Twill sink ere night be past. Sixth Spirit My dwelling is the shadow of the night, Why doth thy magic torture me with light? Seventh Spirit The star which rules thy destiny The menace of the universe; The monster of the upper sky! And thou! beneath its influence bornThou worm! whom I obey and scorn forget; 150 We are eternal; and to us the past Is, as the future, present. Art thou answer'd? Man. Ye mock me but the power which brought ye here Hath made you mine. Slaves, scoff not at my will! The mind, the spirit, the Promethean spark, 155 The lightning of my being, is as bright, Pervading, and far darting as your own, And shall not yield to yours, though coop'd in clay! Answer, or I will teach you what I am. reply Forced by a power (which is not 160 Is even in thine own words. thine, And lent thee but to make thee mine). For this brief moment to descend, Where these weak spirits round thee bend And parley with a thing like theeWhat wouldst thou, child of Clay! with me? The Seven Spirits Earth, ocean, air, night, mountains, winds, thy star, Are at thy beck and bidding, child of Clay! Before thee at thy quest their spirits are What we possess we offer; it is thine: Bethink ere thou dismiss us; ask again— Kingdom, and sway, and strength, and length of days Man. Accursed! what have I to do with days? What wouldst thou with us, son of 170 They are too long already.-Hence-bemortals say? gone! Of which we are the mind and principle: 185 Hideous or beautiful to me. Let him, Who is most powerful of ye, take such As unto him may seem most fitting-Come! of a beautiful female figure). Be- Man. Oh God! if it be thus, and thou 190 I yet might be most happy, I will clasp 230 235 240 245 250 255 And forever shalt thou dwell In the spirit of this spell. Though thou seest me not pass by, And a magic voice and verse From thy false tears I did distil For there it coil'd as in a brake;1 In proving every poison known, By thy cold breast and serpent smile, By thy delight in others' pain, And by thy brotherhood of Cain, Thyself to be thy proper hell! And on thy head I pour the vial Which doth devote thee to this trial; Nor to slumber, nor to die, Shall be in thy destiny; Though thy death shall still seem near To thy wish, but as a fear; Lo! the spell now works around thee, 1 thicket And the clankless chain hath bound thee; 260 O'er thy heart and brain together How glorious in its action and itself! Hath the word been pass 'd-now wither! 40 Half dust, half deity, alike unfit SCENE II The Mountain of the Jungfrau.-Time, Morning.-MANFRED alone upon the Cliffs. Man. The spirits I have raised abandon me, The spells which I have studied baffle me, The remedy I reck'd of tortured me; I lean no more on superhuman aid; 5 It hath no power upon the past, and for The future, till the past be gulf'd in darkness, It is not of my search.-My mother Earth! And thou fresh breaking day, and you, ye mountains, Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye. 10 And thou, the bright eye of the universe, That openest over all, and unto all Art a delight-thou shin'st not on my heart. And you, ye crags, upon whose extreme To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will, 45 Till our mortality predominates, 50 And men are-what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other. Hark! the note, [The Shepherd's pipe in the distance is heard. The natural music of the mountain reedFor here the patriarchal days are not A pastoral fable-pipes in the liberal air, Mix'd with the sweet bells of the sauntering herd: My soul would drink those echoes. Oh, The viewless spirit of a lovely sound, Enter from below a CHAMOIS HUNTER. This way the chamois leapt: her nimble Have baffled me; my gains today will up Place your foot here-here, take this staff, and eling A moment to that shrub-now give me your hand, 120 And hold fast by my girdle-softly— well And something like a pathway, which the torrent Hath wash'd since winter.-Come, 'tis bravely done 95 The ripe green valleys with destruction's 125 You should have been a hunter.-Follow splinters; Damming the rivers with a sudden dash, Which crush'd the waters into mist and made Their fountains find another channel thus, Thus, in its old age, did Mount Rosenberg 100 Why stood I not beneath it? C. Hun. Of him who made you, stand not on that Man. (not hearing him). Such would have been for me a fitting tomb; My bones had then been quiet in their depth; 105 They had not then been strewn upon the rocks For the wind's pastime-as thus-thus they shall be— me. [As they descend the rocks with difficulty, the scene closes. ACT II SCENE I A Cottage amongst the Bernese Alps. Thy mind and body are alike unfit least; When thou art better, I will be thy guide5 But whither? Man. It imports not: I do know My route full well, and need no further guidance. 1 See King Lear, IV, 6. In Tate's adaptation of King Lear, Edgar seizes Gloster, his blind father, as he is about to leap from what he thinks is Dover Cliff. |