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, The lightning of my being, is as bright, And shall not yield to yours, though coop'd in clay! Spirit. We answer as we answer'd; our reply Man. Why say ye so? Spirit. If, as thou say'st, thine essence be as ours, We have replied in telling thee, the thing Mortals call death hath nought to do with us. Man. I then have call'd ye from your realms in vain; Ye cannot, or ye will not, aid me. Say; Spirit. Bethink ere thou dismiss us, ask again— Kingdom, and sway, and strength, and length of days- They are too long already.-Hence-begone! Bethink thee, is there then no other gift Which we can make not worthless in thine eyes? Man. No, none: yet stay-one moment, ere we part I would behold ye face to face. I hear Your voices, sweet and melancholy sounds, As music on the waters; and I see The steady aspect of a clear large star; Spirit. We have no forms beyond the elements Man. I have no choice; there is no form on earth Hideous or beautiful to me. Let him, Who is most powerful of ye, take such aspect As unto him may seem most fitting-Come! Seventh Spirit. (Appearing in the shape of a beautiful female figure.) Behold! Man. Oh God! if it be thus, and thou Art not a madness and a mockery, I yet might be most happy. I will clasp thee, And we again will be [The figure vanishes. My heart is crush'd! [MANFRED falls senseless. (A Voice is heard in the Incantation which follows.) When the moon is on the wave, And the glow-worm in the grass, Though thy slumber may be deep, There are shades which will not vanish, Thou canst never be alone; Thou art wrapt as with a shroud, Thou art gather'd in a cloud; And for ever shalt thou dwell Though thou seest me not pass by, And a magic voice and verse Hath begirt thee with a snare; And the day shall have a sun, Which shall make thee wish it done. VOL. III. C From thy false tears I did distil An essence which hath strength to kill; From thy own lip I drew the charm By thy cold breast and serpent smile, Which pass'd for human thine own heart; And on thy head I pour the vial 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, And the clankless chain hath bound thee; O'er thy heart and brain together Hath the word been pass'd-now wither! SCENE II. The Mountain of the Jungfrau.-Time, Morning.— Man. The spirits I have raised abandon me— I lean no more on super-human aid, And thou fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains, And my brain reels-and yet my foot is firm: If it be life to wear within myself My own soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased |