As a literary curiosity, and, still more, as a lesson to genius, never to rest satisfied with imperfection or mediocrity, but to labour on till even failures are converted into triumphs, I shall here transcribe the Third Act, in its original shape, as first sent to the publisher : Inexplicable stillness! which till now 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 And seated in my soul. It will not last, But it is well to have known it, though but once: And I within my tablets would note down Man. 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. Man. 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 Man. Proceed,-I listen. Abbot. 'Tis said thou holdest converse with the things Man. And what are they who do avouch these things? With most unquiet eyes. Thy life's in peril. Man. Take it. Abbot. I come to save, and not destroy I 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. I Man. I hear thee. This is my reply; whate'er 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. Then, hear and tremble! For the headstrong wretch Who in the mail of innate hardihood Would shield himself, and battle for his sins, There is the stake on earth, and beyond earth eternal Man. Charity, most reverend father, Becomes thy lips so much more than this menace, It will be perceived that, as far as this, the original matter of the Third Act has been retained. That I would call thee back to it; but say, What wouldst thou with me? Abbot. It may be there are Things that would shake thee-but I keep them back, And give thee till to-morrow to repent. Then if thou dost not all devote thyself To penance, and with gift of all thy lands To the monastery—— Man. I understand thee,-well! Abbot. Expect no mercy; I have warned thee. Man. (opening the casket.) Stop There is a gift for thee within this casket. [MANFRED opens the casket, strikes a light, and burns some incense. Ho! Ashtaroth! The DEMON ASHTAROTH appears, singing as follows: On the raven-stone, And his black wing flits O'er the milk-white bone; To and fro, as the night-winds blow, The fetters creak-and his ebon beak Croaks to the close of the hollow sound; Merrily, merrily, cheerily, cheerily, Merrily, speeds the ball: The dead in their shrouds, and the demons in clouds, Flock to the witches carnival. Abbot. I fear thee not-hence-hence Avaunt thee, evil one!-help, ho! without there! Man. Convey this man to the Shreckhorn-to its peak To its extremest peak-watch with him there From now till sunrise; let him gaze, and know He ne'er again will be so near to heaven. But harm him not; and, when the morrow breaks, Set him down safe in his cell-away with him! Raven-stone (Rabenstein), a translation of the German word for the gibbet, which in Germany and Switzerland is permanent, and 'made of stone.' Ash. Had I not better bring his brethren too, Convent and all, to bear him company? Man. No, this will serve for the present. Take him up. And we shall fly the lighter. ASHTAROTH disappears with the ABBOT, singing as follows: And a widow re-wedded within the year; MANFRED alone. Man. Why would this fool break in on me, and force It was not of my seeking. My heart sickens Re-enter HERMAN. Her. My lord, you bade me wait on you at sunset: [MANFRED advances to the window of the hall. Of early nature, and the vigorous race More beautiful than they, which did draw down 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 Themselves in orisons! Thou material God! And representative of the Unknown— This fine soliloquy, and a great part of the subsequent scene, have, it is hardly necessary to remark, been retained in the present form of the Drama. Who chose thee for his shadow! Thou chief star! And hearts of all who walk within thy rays! SCENE II. [Exit MANFRED. The Mountains-the Castle of Manfred at some distance-A Terrace before a Tower-Time, Twilight. HERMAN, MANUEL, and other Dependants of MANFRED. 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, To draw conclusions absolute of aught His studies tend to. To be sure, there is One chamber where none enter; I would give 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- 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? 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 |