Have I partaken; and of all these things, Man. Think me not churlish; I would spare thyself, [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, SCENE II. Another Chamber. MANFRED and HERMAN. [Exit ABBOT. 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) More beautiful than they, which did draw down Who chose thee for his shadow! Thou chief star! And hearts of all who walk within thy rays! [Exit MANFRED. SCENE III. The Mountains-The Castle of Manfred at some distance HERMAN, MANUEL, and other Dependants of Her. 'Tis strange enough; night after night, for years, 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 Merrier than day; he did not walk the rocks From men and their delights. Her. Beshrew the hour, But those were jocund times! I would that such As if they had forgotten them. Manuel. These walls Must change their chieftain first. Oh! I have seen Some strange things in them, Herman. Come, be friendly; Her. I've heard thee darkly speak of an event Which happen'd hereabouts, by this same tower. So like that it might be the same; the wind And watchings-her, whom of all earthly things. VOL. III. Hush! who comes here? E Enter the ABBOT. Abbot. Where is your master? Abbot. I must speak with him. Manuel. Yonder in the tower. 'Tis impossible; He is most private, and must not be thus Intruded on. Abbot. Upon myself I take The forfeit of my fault, if fault there be 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 |