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. Yet, hear me still-
Man.
Thine order, and revere thine years; I deem
Thy purpose pious, but it is in vain :

Old man! I do respect

Think me not churlish; I would spare thyself,

Far more than me, in shunning at this time
All further colloquy-and so-farewell.

[Exit MANFRED.

Abbot. This should have been a noble creature: he

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

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
Is to dare all things for a righteous end.
I'll follow him-but cautiously, though surely.

[Exit ABBOT.

SCENE II.

Another Chamber.

MANFRED and HERMAN.

Her. My lord, you bade me wait on you at sunset:

He sinks behind the mountain.

Man.

I will look on him.

Doth he so?

[MANFRED advances to the Window of the Hall. Glorious Orb! the idol

Of early nature, and the vigorous race

Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons (4)
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
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 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:

I follow.

[Exit MANFRED.

SCENE III.

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

HERMAN, MANUEL, and other Dependants of
MANFRED.

Her. 'Tis strange enough; night after night, for years,
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,
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,
To pore upon its mysteries.

Manuel.

"Twere dangerous;

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,—

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

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.

Manuel.

These walls

Must change their chieftain first. Oh! I have seen
Some strange things in them, Herman.

Her.

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 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 he seem'd to love,-
As he, indeed, by blood was bound to do,
The lady Astarte, his

Hush! who comes here?

VOL. III.

F

Enter the ABBOT.

Abbot. Where is your master?
Her.

Abbot. I must speak with him.

Manuel.

Yonder in the tower.

'Tis impossible;

He is most private, and must not be thus
Intruded on.

The forfeit of my fault, if fault there be-
But I must see him.

Her.

This eve already.

Abbot.

Thou hast seen him once

Herman! I command thee,

Knock, and apprize the Count of my approach.

Man. 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