Sidor som bilder

And forests like a wolf, nor turn aside
From men and their delights.


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.


These walls


Must change their chieftain first. Oh! I have seen
Some strange things in these few years*.
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.

Manuel. That was a night indeed! I do remember
"Twas twilight, as it may be now, and such
Another evening ;-yon red cloud, which rests
On Eigher's pinnacle, so rested then,—
So like that it might be the same; the wind
Was faint and gusty, and the mountain snows
Began to glitter with the climbing moon;
Count Manfred was, as now, within his tower,-
How occupied, we knew not, but with him
The sole companion of his wanderings

And watchings-her, whom of all earthly things
That lived, the only thing he seemed to love,-
As he, indeed, by blood was bound to do,
The lady Astarte, his-


Look-look-the tower

The tower's on fire. Oh heavens and earth! what sound
What dreadful sound is that?

[A crash like thunder.

Manuel. Help, help, there!—to the rescue of the Count,—
The Count's in danger,-what ho! there! approach!

[The Servants, Vassals, and Peasantry approach, stupified with terror.

If there be any of you who have heart

And love of human kind, and will to aid

Those in distress-pause not-but follow me-
The portal's open, follow.

[MANUEL goes in.


Come-who follows?
What, none of ye ?-ye recreants! shiver then
Without. I will not see old Manuel risk
His few remaining years unaided.



No-all is silent-not a breath-the flame

* Altered in the present form, to 'some strange things in them, Herman.'

[HERMAN goes in.



Which shot forth such a blaze is also gone;

What may this mean? let's enter!

Faith, not I,-
Not that, if one, or two, or more, will join,
I then will stay behind; but, for my part,
I do not see precisely to what end.

Vassal. Cease your vain prating—come.
Manuel. (speaking within.)

He's dead.

'Tis all in vain

Her. (within.) Not so-even now methought he moved; But it is dark-so bear him gently out

Softly-how cold he is! take care of his temples

In winding down the staircase.


Re-enter MANUEL and HERMAN, bearing MANFRED in their arms.

Manuel. Hie to the castle, some of ye, and bring
What aid you can. Saddle the barb, and speed
For the leech to the city-quick! some water there!
Her. His cheek is black-but there is a faint beat
Still lingering about the heart. Some water.

[They sprinkle MANFRED with water; after a pause, he
gives some signs of life.

Manuel. He seems to strive to speak-come-cheerly, Count!
He moves his lips-canst hear him? I am old,
And cannot catch faint sounds.

[HERMAN inclining his head and listening. Her. I hear a word Or two-but indistinctly—what is next? What's to be done? let's bear him to the castle.

[MANFRED motions with his hand not to remove him. Manuel. He disapproves-and 'twere of no avail— He changes rapidly.


'Twill soon be over.

Manuel. Oh! what a death is this! that I should live
To shake my gray hairs over the last chief
Of the house of Sigismund.—And such a death!
Alone-we know not how-unshrived-untended-
With strange accompaniments and fearful signs-
I shudder at the sight-but must not leave him.

Manfred. (speaking faintly and slowly.) Old man! 'tis not so dif-
[MANFRED having said this expires.

ficult to die.

Her. His eyes are fix'd and lifeless.-He is gone.—

Manuel. Close them.-My old hand quivers.-He departs― Whither? I dread to think-but he is gone!

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Rome, May 9th, 1817.

'Address all answers to Venice; for there I shall ' return in fifteen days, God willing.

'I sent you from Florence "The Lament of Tasso," and from Rome the Third Act of Manfred, both of ' which, I trust, will duly arrive. The terms of these ' two I mentioned in my last, and will repeat in this :


it is three hundred for each, or six hundred guineas for the two-that is, if you like, and they are good ' for anything.

'At last one of the parcels is arrived. In the notes 'to Childe Harold there is a blunder of yours or mine: you talk of arrival at St. Gingo, and, immediately 'after, add-" on the height is the Chateau of Clarens. This is sad work: Clarens is on the other 'side of the Lake, and it is quite impossible that I

should have so bungled. Look at the MS.; and at any rate rectify it.


The "Tales of my Landlord" I have read with great pleasure, and perfectly understand now why


my sister and aunt are so very positive in the very erroneous persuasion that they must have been written


by me. If you knew me as well as they do, you 'would have fallen, perhaps, into the same mistake.

Some day or other, I will explain to you why-when 'I have time; at present, it does not much matter; but


you must have thought this blunder of theirs very ' odd, and so did I, till I had read the book. Croker's 'letter to you is a very great compliment; I shall ' return it to you in my next.

'I perceive you are publishing a Life of Raffael ' d'Urbino : it may perhaps interest you to hear that a 'set of German artists here allow their hair to grow,


2 A

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' and trim it into his fashion, thereby drinking the 'cummin of the disciples of the old philosopher; if they would cut their hair, convert it into brushes, and paint like him, it would be more "German to 'the matter."



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'I'll tell you a story: the other day, a man herean English-mistaking the statues of Charlemagne ' and Constantine, which are equestrian, for those of 'Peter and Paul, asked another which was Paul of these same horsemen ?-to which the reply was,"I thought, sir, that St. Paul had never got on horseback since his accident?"


I'll tell you another: Henry Fox, writing to some 'one from Naples the other day, after an illness, adds "-" and I am so changed, that my oldest creditors ' would hardly know me.'


'I am delighted with Rome-as I would be with a 'bandbox, that is, it is a fine thing to see, finer than Greece; but I have not been here long enough to 'affect it as a residence, and I must go back to Lom

bardy, because I am wretched at being away from 'Marianna. I have been riding my saddle-horses every-day, and been to Albano, its Lakes, and to the 'top of the Alban Mount, and to Frescati, Aricia, ' &c. &c. with an &c. &c. &c. about the city, and in the 'city for all which-vide Guide-book. As a whole, 'ancient and modern, it beats Greece, Constantinople, 'everything-at least that I have ever seen. But I 'can't describe, because my first impressions are always 'strong and confused, and my memory selects and 'reduces them to order, like distance in the landscape, ' and blends them better, although they may be less 'distinct. There must be a sense or two more than we 'have, us mortals; for * * where there is much

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