The black plague flew o'er it-
Thousands lie lowly;
Tens of thousands shall perish-
The living shall fly from
The sick they should cherish;
But nothing can vanquish
The touch that they die from.
Sorrow and anguish,
And evil and dread,
Envelope a nation-
The blest are the dead,
Who see not the sight

Of their own desolation.-
This work of a night,
This wreck of a realm-this deed of my
doing-

Forages I've done, and shall still be renewing!

Enter the Second and Third DESTINIES.
The Three.

Our hands contain the hearts of men,
Our footsteps are their graves;
We only give to take again

The spirits of our slaves!
First Dest. Welcome! - Where's Nemesis?
Second Dest. At some great work;
But what I know not,for my hands were full.
Third Dest. Behold she cometh.

Enter NEMESIS.

First Dest. Say, where hast thou been? My sisters and thyself are slow to-night. Nem. I was detain'd repairing shatter'd thrones,

Marrying fools, restoring dynasties,
Avenging men upon their enemies,
And making them repent their own revenge;
Goading the wise to madness; from the dull
Shaping out oracles to rule the world
Afresh, for they were waxing out of date,
And mortals dared to ponder for themselves,
To weigh kings in the balance, and to speak
Of freedom, the forbidden fruit.-Away!
We have outstaid the hour-mount we
[Exeunt.

our clouds!

SCENE IV-The Hall of Arimanes.-Arimanes on his Throne, a Globe of Fire, surrounded by the Spirits.

Hymn of the Spirits.

Hail to our Master!-Prince of Earth and Air!

Who walks the clouds and waters-in

his hand

The sceptre of the elements, which tear Themselves to chaos at his high command! He breatheth-and a tempest shakes the sea; He speaketh-and the clouds reply in thunder;

He gazeth-from his glance the sunbeams flee;

He moveth-earthquakes rend the world asunder.

Beneath his footsteps the volcanos rise; His shadow is the Pestilence; his path The comets herald through the crackling skies;

And planets turn to ashes at his wrath. To him war offers daily sacrifice;

To him death pays his tribute; Life is his, With all its infinite of agoniesAnd his the spirit of whatever is!

Enter the DESTINIES and NEMESIS. First Dest. Glory to Arimanes! on the earth

His power increaseth-both my sisters did His bidding, nor did I neglect my duty!

The necks of men, bow down before his Sec. Dest. Glory to Arimanes! we who bow

Third Dest. Glory toArimanes! we await

Third Spirit. Bow down and worship, slave! What, know'st thou not Thine and our Sovereign?-Tremble, and obey!

All the Spirits. Prostrate thyself, and thy Child of the Earth! or dread the worst. condemned clay, And yet ye see I kneel not. Manf. I know it;

Fourth Spirit. "Twill be taught thee. Manf. Tis taught already;-many a On the bare ground, have I bow'd down night on the earth, my face,

And strew'd my head with ashes; I have

known

The fulness of humiliation, for
I sunk before my vain despair, and knelt
To my own desolation.

Fifth Spirit. Dost thou dare
Refuse to Arimanes on his throne
What the whole earth accords, beholding

not

The terror of his Glory-Crouch! I say.

The overruling Infinite-the Maker Who made him not for worship-let him kneel,

And we will kneel together.

The Spirits. Crush the worm!

Tear him in pieces!

First Dest. Hence! Avaunt! he's mine. Prince of the Powers invisible! this man Is of no common order, as his port And presence here denote: his sufferings Have been of an immortal nature, like Our own; his knowledge and his powers and will,

As far as is compatible with clay, Which clogs the etherial essence, have been such

As clay hath seldom borne; his aspirations
Have been beyond the dwellers of the earth,
And they have only taught him what we
know-

That knowledge is not happiness, and science
But an exchange of ignorance for that
Which is another kind of ignorance.
This is not all-the passions, attributes
Of earth and heaven, from which no power,
nor being,

Nor breath from the worm upwards is exempt,

The heart and the form And the aspect thou worest Redeem from the worm. Appear!-Appear! - Appear!

Who sent thee there requires thee here! (The Phantom of ASTARTE riscs and stands in the midst.)

Man. Can this be death? there's bloom upon her cheek?

But now I see it is no living hue,
But a strange hectic-like the unnatural red
Which Autumn plants upon the perish'd leaf.
It is the same! Oh, God! that I should dread
To look upon the same-Astarte !—No,
I cannot speak to her—but bid her speak—
Forgive me or condemn me.

Nemesis.

By the power which hath broken
The grave which inthrall'd thee,
Speak to him who hath spoken,

Or those who have call'd thee!
Manf. She is silent,

And in that silence I am more than answer'd. Nem. My power extends no further. Prince of Air!

It rests with thee alone- command her voice. Arim. Spirit-obey this sceptre!

Nem. Silent still!

She is not of our order, but belongs

is vain,

Than I am changed for thee. Thou lovedst me
Too much, as I loved thee: we were not made
To torture thus cach other, though it were
The deadliest sin to love as we have loved.
Say that thou loathest me not that I do bear
This punishment for both-that thou wilt be
One of the bless'd—and that I shall die;
For hitherto all hateful things conspire
To bind me in existence-in a life
Which makes me shrink from immortality—
A future like the past. I cannot rest.
I know not what I ask, nor what I seek:
I feel but what thou art-and what I am;
And I would hear yet once before I perish
The voice which was my music-Speak
to me!

For I have call'd on thee in the still night, Startled the slumbering birds from the hush'd boughs,

And woke the mountain-wolves, and made the caves

Acquainted with thy vainly echoed name, Which answer'd me-many things answer'd

me

Spirits and men-but thou wert silent all. Yet speak to me! I have outwatch'd the

stars.

And gazed o'er heaven in vain in search of

thee

Speak to me! I have wander'd o'er the earth And never found thy likeness-Speak to me! Look on the fiends around-they feel for me: I fear them not, and feel for thee aloneSpeak to me! though it be in wrath;— but

say

If that I did not 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,

[The Spirit of Astarte disappears. Nem. She's gone, and will not be recall'd; Her words will be fulfill'd. Return to the earth.

A Spirit. He is convulsed.-This is to be a mortal

And seek the things beyond mortality. Another Spirit. Yet, see, he mastereth himself and makes

His torture tributary to his will.
Had he been one of us, he would have made
An awful spirit.

Nem. Hast thou further question
Of our great sovereign, or his worshippers?
Manf. None.

Nem. Then for a time farewell.
Manf. We meet then! Where? On the

earth?

once :

It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new

sense,

And I within my tablets would note down That there is such a feeling. Who is there? Re-enter HERMAN.

Herm. My lord, the Abbot of St. Maurice

craves

To greet your presence.

Enter the ABBOT OF ST. MAURICE Abbot. Peace be with Count Manfred! Manf. Thanks, holy father! welcome to these walls;

Thy presence honours them, and blesseth those

Who dwell within them.

Abbot. Would it were so, Count!But I would fain confer with thee alone. Manf. Herman, retire. What would my reverend guest?

Abbot. Thus, without prelude:-Age and zeal, my office,

And good intent, must plead my privilege; Our near, though not acquainted, neighbourhood

May also be my herald. Rumours strange,
And of unholy nature, are abroad,
And busy with thy name; a noble name
For centuries; may he who bears it now
Transmit it unimpair'd!

Manf. Proceed,- I listen.

Abbot. 'Tis said thou holdest converse with the things

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,

MANFRED and HERMAN.

Manf. What is the hour?

Herm. It wants but one till sunset,
And promises a lovely twilight.
Manf. Say,

Are all things so disposed of in the tower
As I directed?

Herm. All, my lord, are ready,
Here is the key and casket.
Manf. It is well:
Thou mayst retire.

[Erit Herman.
Manf. (alone.) There is a calm upon me -
Inexplicable stillness! which till now
Did not belong to what I knew of life.

Exchange thy thoughts, and that thy solitude Is as an anchorite's, were it but holy. Manf. And what are they who do avouch these things?

Abbot. My pious brethren - the scared peasantry

Even thy own vassals - who do look on thee With most unquiet eyes. Thy life's in peril. Manf. Take it.

Abbot. I come to save, and not destroyI would not pry into thy secret soul; But if these things be sooth, there still is time For penitence and pity: reconcile thee With the true church, and through the church to heaven.

whate'er

I 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!
Abbot. My son! I did not speak of
punishment,

But penitence and pardon ;-with thyself
The choice of such remains-and for the last,
Our institutions and our strong belief
Have given me power to smooth the path
from sin

To higher hope and better thoughts; the first I leave to Heaven - "Vengeance is mine alone!"

So saith the Lord, and with all humbleness His servant echoes back the awful word. Manf. Old man! there is no power in

holy men,

Nor charm in prayer-nor purifying form Of penitence-nor outward look - nor fastNor agony-nor, greater than all these, The innate tortures of that deep despair, Which is remorse without the fear of hell, But all in all sufficient to itself

Would make a hell of heaven – can exorcise
From out the unbounded spirit the quick sense
Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and
revenge

Upon itself; there is no future pang
Can deal that justice on the self-condemn'd
He deals on his own soul.

Abbot. All this is well;

For this will pass away, and be succeeded
By an auspicious hope, which shall look up
With calm assurance to that blessed place,
Which all who seek may win, whatever be
Their earthly errors, so they be atoned:
And the commencement of atonement is
The sense of its necessity.-Say on-
And all our church can teach thee shall be
taught;

And all we can absolve thee, shall be par

don'd.

Manf. When Rome's sixth Emperor was near his last,

The victim of a self-inflicted wound,
To shun the torments of a public death
From senates, once his slaves, a certain
soldier,

With show of loyal pity, would have staunch'd

The gushing throat with his officious robe; The dying Roman thrust him back and said Some empire still in his expiring glance, "It is too late - is this fidelity?" Abbot. And what of this? Manf. I answer with the Roman "It is too late!"

Abbot. It never can be so, To reconcile thyself with thy own soul, And thy own soul with Heaven. Hast thou

no hope?

above,

Yet shape themselves some phantasy on earth, To which frail twig they cling, like drowning men.

Manf. Ay father! I have had those earthly visions

And noble aspirations in my youth,
To make my own the mind of other men,
The enlightener of nations; and to rise
I knew not whither-it might be to fall;
But fall, even as the mountain-cataract,
Which having leapt from its more dazzling
height,

Even in the foaming strength of its abyss,
(Which casts up misty columns that become
Clouds raining from there-ascended skies,)
Lies low but mighty still.—But this is past,
My thoughts mistook themselves.

Abbot. And wherefore so?

Manf. I could not tame my nature down; for he Must serve who fain would sway — and soothe and sue

And watch all time-and pry into all place--
And be a living lie-- who would become
A mighty thing amongst the mean, and such
The mass are; I disdain'd to mingle with
A herd, though to be leader and of wolves.
The lion is alone, and so am I.

Abbot. And why not live and act with other men?

Manf. Because my nature was averse from life;

And yet not cruel; for I would not make,
But find a desolation :-like the wind,
The red-hot breath of the most lone Simoom,
Which dwells but in the desert, and sweeps

o'er

The barren sands which bear no shrubs to blast,

And revels o'er their wild and arid waves, And seeketh not, so that it is not sought, But being met is deadly; such hath been The course of my existence; but there came Things in my path which are no more. Abbot. Alas!

I'gin to fear that thou art past all aid From me and from my calling; yet so young, I still would—

Manf. Look on me! there is an order Of mortals on the earth, who do become Old in their youth and die ere middle age, Without the violence of warlike death; Some perishing of pleasure- some of studySome worn with toil-some of mere weari

ness

Some of disease and some insanity-
And some of wither'd, or of broken hearts;
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
Have I partaken; and of all these things,
One were enough; then wonder not that I