ABBOT OF SAINT MAURICE.

And why not live and act with other men?

MANFRED.

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 desart, 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 OF SAINT MAURICE.

Alas!

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

MANFRED.

Look on me! there is an order

Of mortals on the earth, who do become
Old in their youth, and die cre middle age,
Without the violence of warlike death;
Some perishing of pleasure-some of study-
Some worn with toil-some of mere weariness-
Some of disease-and some insanity-

For this last is a malady which slays

More than are numbered 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
Am what I am, but that I ever was,
Or having been, that I am still on earth.

ABBOT OF SAINT MAURICE.

Old man! I do respect

Thine order, and revere thine years; I deem
Thy purpose pious, but it is in vain :

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 OF SAINT MAURICE.

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.

HERMAN.

My lord, you bade me wait on you at sunset:
He sinks behind the mountain.

I will look on him.

MANFRED.

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 cre

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 stari
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 dest 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

I follow.

gone :

(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.

HERMAN.

'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 knowest already.

HERMAN.

Ah! Manuel! thou art elderly and wise,

And could'st say much; thou hast dwelt within the castleHow many years is't?

MANUEL.

Ere Count Manfred's birth,

I served his father, whom he nought resembles.

HERMAN.

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.

HERMAN.

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.

HERMAN.

Come, be friendly;

Relate me some to while away our watch:
I've heard thee darkly speak of an event

Which happened hereabouts, by this same tower.