Thou may'st retire.

[Exit HERMAN. J
Man. (alone.) There is a calm upon me―
Inexplicable stillness! which till now
Did not belong to what I knew of life.
If that I did now know philosophy
To be of all our vanities the motliest,
The merest word that ever fool'd the ear

From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem
The golden secret, the sought "Kalon" found
And seated in my soul. It will not last,

But it is well to have known it, though but once;
It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense,
And I within my tables would note down
That there is such a feeling. Who is there?

Which are forbidden to the search of man;
That with the dwellers of the dark abodes,
The many evil and unheavenly spirits
Which walk the valley of the shade of death,
Thou communest. I know that with mankind,
Thy fellows in creation, thou dost rarely
Exchange thy thoughts, and that thy solitude
Is as an anchorite's, were it but holy.

Abbot. Then, hear and tremble! For the head strong wretch

Who in the mail of innate hardihood

Would shield himself, and battle for his sins,

There is the stake on earth,, and beyond earth
eternal-

Man. Charity, most reverend father,
Becomes thy lips so much more than this menace,
That I would call thee back to it: but say,
What wouldst thou with me?

Abbot.
It may be there are
Things that would shake thee--but I keep them
back,

And give thee till to-morrow to repent.
Then if thou dost not all devote thyself -
To penitence, and with gift of all thy lands
To the monastery--

Man.
I understand thee, -well.
Abbot. Expect no mercy; I have warned thee
Man. (opening the casket.)
Stop

There is a gift for thee within this casket.

[MANFRED opens the casket, strings a ligh..., an2 burns some incense.

Abbot. I fear thee not-hence-hence-
Avaunt thee, evil one!-help, ho! without there!
Man. Convey this man to the Shreckhorn-to its
. peak-

Man. And what are they who do avouch these To its extremest peak-watch with him there
things?

From now till sunrise; let him gaze, and know

Abbot. My pious brethren-the scared peasantry-He ne'er again will be so near to heaven, Even thy own vassals-who do look on thee

With most unquiet eyes. Thy life's in peril.

Man. Take it.

Abbot.

But harm him not; and when the morrow breaks,
Set him down safe in his cell-away with him!
Ash. Had I not better bring his brethren too,

I come to save, and not destroy-Convent and all to bear him company?

I would not pry into thy secret soul;

But if these things be sooth, there still is time
For penitence and pity: reconcile thee

Man. No, this will serve for the present. Take him up.

Ash. Come, friar! now an exorcism or two,

With the true church, and through the church to And we shall fly the lighter.

heaven.

Man. I hear thee. This is my reply; whate'er
1 may have been, or am, doth rest between
Heaven and myself.-I shall not choose a mortal
To be my mediator. Have I sinn'd
Against your ordinances? prove and punish! *

• It will be perceived that, as far as this, the original matter of the Third Aet has been retained.

[ASHTAROTH disappears with the ABBOT, singing as follows:

A prodigal son and a maid undone,

And a widow re-wedded within the year; And a wordly monk and a pregnant nun, Are things which every day appear.

• "Raven-stone, (Rabenstein,) a translation of the German word for the gibbet, which in Germany and Switzerland is permanent, and made of stone.*

MANFRED alone.

Man. Why would this fool break in on me, and
force

My art to pranks fantastical?-no matter,
It was not of my seeking. My heart sickens
And weighs a fix'd foreboding on my soul;
But it is calm-calm as a sullen sea
After the hurricane; the winds are still,
But the cold waves swell high and heavily,
And there is danger in them. Such a rest
Is no repose. My life hath been a combat,
And every thought a wound, till I am scarr'd
In the immortal part of me.-What now?

Re-enter HERMAN.

One chamber where none enter; I would give
The fee of what I have to come these three years,
To pore upon its mysteries.
"Twere dangerous;
Manuel.
Content thyself with what thou know'st already.
Her. Ah! Manuel! thou art elderly and wise,
And couldst say much; thou hast dwelt within the
castle-

How many years is't?

Manuel.

Ere Count Manfred's birth, I served his father, whom he nought resembles. Her. There be more sons in like predicament But wherein do they differ?

Manuel.

I speak not

Of features or of form, but mind and habits:
Count Sigismund was proud,-but gay and free,-

Her. My lord, you bade me wait on you at sunset: A warrior and a reveller; he dwelt not
He sinks behind the mountain.

Man.

I will look on him.

Doth he so?

With books and solitude, nor made the night
A gloomy vigil, but a festal time,
Merrier than day, he did not walk the rocks

[MANFRED advances to the window of the hall. And forests like a wolf, nor turn aside

Glorious orb!

the idol

Of early nature, and the vigorous race
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 were a worship, ere
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!
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!
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!
I ne'er shall see thee more. As my first glance
Of love and wonder 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:
I follow.

SCENE II.

From men and their delights.

Her.

Beshrew the hour, But those were jocund times! I would that such Would visit the old walls again; they look

As if they had forgotten them.

Her.

These walls
Manuel.
Must change their chieftain first. Oh! I have seen
Some strange things in these few years.*
Come, be friendly;
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. That was a night indeed! I do remember
'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 it that it might be the same; the wind
Was faint and gusty, and the mountain snows
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
That lived, the only thing seem'd to love,
As he, indeed, by blood was bound to do,
The lady Astarte, his-

Her.

Look-look-the tower[Exit MANFRED. The tower's on fire. Oh, heavens and earth! what

The Mountains.-The Castle of Manfred at some distance.-A Terrace before a Tower.-Time, Twilight.

HERMAN, MANUEL, and other Dependants of

MANFRED.

sound,

What dreadful sound is that?

[A crash like thunder. Manuel. Help, help, there !-to the rescue of the Count,

The Count's in danger,-what ho! there! approach:
[The Servants, Vassals, and Peasantry ap
proach, stupified with terror.

If there be any of you who have heart
Her. 'Tis strange enough; night after night, for And love of human kind, and will to aid

moved;

'Tis all in vain

[HERMAN inclining his head and listening.
I hear a word

Or two-but indistinctly-what is next?
What's to be done? let's bear him to the castle.
[MANFRED motions with his hand not to remove
him.

Manuel. He disapproves-and 'twere of no avail—
"Twill soon be over.

Her. (within.) Not so-even now methought he He changes rapidly.
Her.
Manuel. Oh! what a death is this! that I should'
live

But it is dark-so bear him gently out-
Softly-how cold he is! take care of his temples

In winding down the staircase.

To shake my gray hairs over the last chief
Of the house of Sigismund.-And such a death!

Re-enter MANUEL and HERMAN, bearing MANFRED Alone we know not how-unshrived-untended—

in their arms.

Manuel. Hie to the castle, some of ye, and bring│·
What aid you can. Saddle the barb, and speed
For the leech to the city-quick! some water there!
Her. His cheek is black-but there is a faint beat
Still lingering about the heart. Some water.

[They sprinkle MANFRED with water: after a
pause, he gives some signs of life.

With strange accompaniments and fearful signs-
I shudder at the sight-but must not leave him.
Man. (speaking faintly and slowly.) Old man!
'tis not so difficult to die.

[MANFRED having said this expires.
Her. His eyes are fix'd and lifeless.-He is gone.
Manuel. Close them.-My old hand quivers.-
He departs-

Whither? I dread to think-but he is gone!

Joson answer"I, Ben Jonson, lay with your wife." Sylvester an- ↑ I allude not to our friend Landor's hero, the traitor Count Julian, but to swered, — ' That is net rhyme."--"No," said Ben Jonson, "but it is true."Gibbon's hero, vulgarly yclept "The Apostate."