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SCENE IV.

The Hall of ArimanesArimanes on his throne, a globe of Jire, surrounded bjr the Spirits.

HYMN OF THE SPIRITS.

Hai! 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. Bencath 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 agonies—

And his the spirit of whatever is!

( Enter the Destikies anrf J»emes:s.) FIRST DESTINY.

Glory to Arimanes ! on the earth

His power increascth—both my sisters did

His bidding, nor did I neglect my duty!

SECOND DESTINY.

Glory to Arimanes ! we who bow

The necks of men, bow down before his throne!

THIRD DESTINY.

Glory to Arimaues !—we await
His nod I

NEMESIS.

Sovereign of Sovereigns ! we are tbiue,
And all that liveth, more or less, is ours,
And most things wholly so; still to increase
Our power, increasing thine, demands our care,
And we are vigilant—Thy late commands
Have been fulfilled to the utmost.

(Enter
A SPIRIT.

What is here?

A mortal!—Thou most rash and fatal wretch,
ISow down and worship!

SECOND SPIRIT.

I do know the man— A magian of great power, and fearful skill!

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 condemned clay,
Child of the Earth ! or dread the worst.

MANFRED.

I know it; And yet ye see I kneel not.

FOURTH SPIRIT.

Twill be taught thee.

Manfred.

Tis taught already;—many a night on the earth,

On the bare ground, have I bow'J down 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.

Tifth Spirit.

Dost them dare

Refine to Arimanes on his throne
What the whole earth accords, beholding not
The terror of his glory ?—Grouch ! I say.

MANFKED.

Bid him Low down to that which is above him,
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 DESTINY.

Hence ! Avaunt!—he's mine, Prince of the Powers invisible I 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,

j\nd 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,

Have pierced his heart; and in their consequence

Made him a thing, which I, who pity not,

Yet pardon those who pity. He is mine,

And thine, it may be—be it so, or not,

No other Spirit in this region hath

A soul like his—or power upon his soul.

NEMESIS.

What doth he here then?

FIRST DESTINY.

Let him answer that.

MANFRED.

Ye know what I have known , and without power
I could not be amongst ye : but there are
Powers deeper still beyond—I come in quest
Of such, to answer unto what I seek.

Nemesis.
What would'st thon?

MANFRED.

Thou canst not repry to me. Call up the dead—my question is for them.

NEMESIS.

Great Arimanes, doth thy will avouch
The wishes of this mortal?

Arimanes.
Yea.

NEMESIS.

Whom would'st thou Uncharnel?

MANFRED.

One without a tomb—call up Astarte.

NEMESIS.

Shallow ! or Spirit!

Whatever thou art,
Which still doth inherit

The whole or a part
Of the form of thy birth,

Of the mould of thy clay,
Which returned to the earth,

Re-appear to the day!
Bear what thou horest,

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 rises and
stands in the midst.)

MANFRED.

Can this be Death? there's bloom upon her check;

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