No More Learning

Of that which is within me; read it there--
Ye know it--and I cannot utter it.

_Spirit_. We can but give thee that which we possess:
Ask of us subjects, sovereignty, the power 140
O'er earth--the whole, or portion--or a sign
Which shall control the elements, whereof
We are the dominators,--each and all,
These shall be thine.

_Man_. Oblivion--self-oblivion!
Can ye not wring from out the hidden realms
Ye offer so profusely--what I ask?

_Spirit_. It is not in our essence, in our skill;
But--thou may'st die.

_Man_. Will Death bestow it on me?

_Spirit_. We are immortal, and do not forget;
We are eternal; and to us the past 150
Is, as the future, present. Art thou answered?

_Man_. Ye mock me--but the Power which brought ye here
Hath made you mine. Slaves, scoff not at my will!
The Mind--the Spirit--the Promethean spark,[at]
The lightning of my being, is as bright,
Pervading, and far darting as your own,
And shall not yield to yours, though cooped in clay!
Answer, or I will teach you what I am. [au]

_Spirit_. We answer--as we answered; our reply
Is even in thine own words.

_Man_. Why say ye so? 160

_Spirit_. If, as thou say'st, thine essence be as ours,
We have replied in telling thee, the thing
Mortals call death hath nought to do with us.

_Man_. I then have called ye from your realms in vain;
Ye cannot, or ye will not, aid me.

_Spirit_. Say--[113]
What we possess we offer; it is thine:
Bethink ere thou dismiss us; ask again;
Kingdom, and sway, and strength, and length of days--

_Man_. Accursed! what have I to do with days?
They are too long already. --Hence--begone! 170

_Spirit_. Yet pause: being here, our will would do thee service;
Bethink thee, is there then no other gift
Which we can make not worthless in thine eyes?

_Man. _ No, none: yet stay--one moment, ere we part,
I would behold ye face to face. I hear
Your voices, sweet and melancholy sounds,
As Music on the waters;[114] and I see
The steady aspect of a clear large Star;
But nothing more. Approach me as ye are,
Or one--or all--in your accustomed forms. 180

_Spirit_. We have no forms, beyond the elements
Of which we are the mind and principle:
But choose a form--in that we will appear.

_Man_. I have no choice; there is no form on earth
Hideous or beautiful to me. Let him,
Who is most powerful of ye, take such aspect
As unto him may seem most fitting--Come!

_Seventh Spirit (appearing in the shape of a beautiful
female figure)_. [115] Behold!

_Man_. Oh God! if it be thus, and _thou_[116]
Art not a madness and a mockery,
I yet might be most happy. I will clasp thee, 190
And we again will be----
[_The figure vanishes. _
My heart is crushed!
[MANFRED _falls senseless_.

(_A voice is heard in the Incantation which follows. _)[117]

When the Moon is on the wave,
And the glow-worm in the grass,
And the meteor on the grave,
And the wisp on the morass;[118]
When the falling stars are shooting,
And the answered owls are hooting,
And the silent leaves are still
In the shadow of the hill,
Shall my soul be upon thine, 200
With a power and with a sign.

Though thy slumber may be deep,
Yet thy Spirit shall not sleep;
There are shades which will not vanish,
There are thoughts thou canst not banish;
By a Power to thee unknown,
Thou canst never be alone;
Thou art wrapt as with a shroud,
Thou art gathered in a cloud;
And for ever shalt thou dwell 210
In the spirit of this spell.

Though thou seest me not pass by,
Thou shalt feel me with thine eye
As a thing that, though unseen,
Must be near thee, and hath been;
And when in that secret dread
Thou hast turned around thy head,
Thou shalt marvel I am not
As thy shadow on the spot,
And the power which thou dost feel 220
Shall be what thou must conceal.

And a magic voice and verse
Hath baptized thee with a curse;
And a Spirit of the air
Hath begirt thee with a snare;
In the wind there is a voice
Shall forbid thee to rejoice;
And to thee shall Night deny
All the quiet of her sky;
And the day shall have a sun, 230
Which shall make thee wish it done.

From thy false tears I did distil
An essence which hath strength to kill;
From thy own heart I then did wring
The black blood in its blackest spring;
From thy own smile I snatched the snake,
For there it coiled as in a brake;
From thy own lip I drew the charm
Which gave all these their chiefest harm;
In proving every poison known, 240
I found the strongest was thine own.

By the cold breast and serpent smile,
By thy unfathomed gulfs of guile,
By that most seeming virtuous eye,
By thy shut soul's hypocrisy;
By the perfection of thine art
Which passed for human thine own heart;
By thy delight in others' pain,
And by thy brotherhood of Cain,
I call upon thee! and compel[av] 250
Thyself to be thy proper Hell!

And on thy head I pour the vial
Which doth devote thee to this trial;
Nor to slumber, nor to die,
Shall be in thy destiny;
Though thy death shall still seem near
To thy wish, but as a fear;
Lo! the spell now works around thee,
And the clankless chain hath bound thee;
O'er thy heart and brain together 260
Hath the word been passed--now wither!

SCENE II. --_The Mountain of the Jungfrau_. --
_Time, Morning_. --MANFRED _alone upon the cliffs. _

_Man_. The spirits I have raised abandon me,
The spells which I have studied baffle me,
The remedy I recked of tortured me
I lean no more on superhuman aid;
It hath no power upon the past, and for
The future, till the past be gulfed in darkness,
It is not of my search. --My Mother Earth! [119]
And thou fresh-breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains,
Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye.
And thou, the bright Eye of the Universe, 10
That openest over all, and unto all
Art a delight--thou shin'st not on my heart.
And you, ye crags, upon whose extreme edge
I stand, and on the torrent's brink beneath
Behold the tall pines dwindled as to shrubs
In dizziness of distance; when a leap,
A stir, a motion, even a breath, would bring
My breast upon its rocky bosom's bed
To rest for ever--wherefore do I pause?
I feel the impulse--yet I do not plunge; 20
I see the peril--yet do not recede;
And my brain reels--and yet my foot is firm:
There is a power upon me which withholds,
And makes it my fatality to live,--
If it be life to wear within myself
This barrenness of Spirit, and to be
My own Soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased
To justify my deeds unto myself--
The last infirmity of evil. Aye,
Thou winged and cloud-cleaving minister, 30
[_An Eagle passes. _
Whose happy flight is highest into heaven,
Well may'st thou swoop so near me--I should be
Thy prey, and gorge thine eaglets; thou art gone
Where the eye cannot follow thee; but thine
Yet pierces downward, onward, or above,
With a pervading vision. --Beautiful!
How beautiful is all this visible world! [120]
How glorious in its action and itself!
But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we,
Half dust, half deity, alike unfit 40
To sink or soar, with our mixed essence make
A conflict of its elements, and breathe
The breath of degradation and of pride,
Contending with low wants and lofty will,
Till our Mortality predominates,
And men are--what they name not to themselves,
And trust not to each other. Hark! the note,
[_The Shepherd's pipe in the distance is heard. _
The natural music of the mountain reed--
For here the patriarchal days are not
A pastoral fable--pipes in the liberal air, 50
Mixed with the sweet bells of the sauntering herd;[121]
My soul would drink those echoes. Oh, that I were
The viewless spirit of a lovely sound,
A living voice, a breathing harmony,
A bodiless enjoyment[122]--born and dying
With the blest tone which made me!

_Enter from below a_ CHAMOIS HUNTER.

_Chamois Hunter_. Even so
This way the Chamois leapt: her nimble feet
Have baffled me; my gains to-day will scarce
Repay my break-neck travail. --What is here?
Who seems not of my trade, and yet hath reached 60
A height which none even of our mountaineers,
Save our best hunters, may attain: his garb
Is goodly, his mien manly, and his air
Proud as a free-born peasant's, at this distance:
I will approach him nearer.

_Man_. (_not perceiving the other_). To be thus--
Grey-haired with anguish, like these blasted pines,
Wrecks of a single winter, barkless, branchless,[123]
A blighted trunk upon a cursed root,
Which but supplies a feeling to Decay--
And to be thus, eternally but thus, 70
Having been otherwise! Now furrowed o'er
With wrinkles, ploughed by moments, not by years
And hours, all tortured into ages--hours
Which I outlive! --Ye toppling crags of ice!
Ye Avalanches, whom a breath draws down
In mountainous o'erwhelming, come and crush me!
I hear ye momently above, beneath,
Crash with a frequent conflict;[124] but ye pass,
And only fall on things that still would live;
On the young flourishing forest, or the hut 80
And hamlet of the harmless villager.

_C. Hun_. The mists begin to rise from up the valley;
I'll warn him to descend, or he may chance
To lose at once his way and life together.

_Man_. The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds
Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury,
Like foam from the roused ocean of deep Hell,[aw]
Whose every wave breaks on a living shore,
Heaped with the damned like pebbles. --I am giddy. [125]

_C. Hun_. I must approach him cautiously; if near, 90
A sudden step will startle him, and he
Seems tottering already.

_Man_. Mountains have fallen,
Leaving a gap in the clouds, and with the shock
Rocking their Alpine brethren; filling up
The ripe green valleys with Destruction's splinters;
Damming the rivers with a sudden dash,
Which crushed the waters into mist, and made
Their fountains find another channel--thus,
Thus, in its old age, did Mount Rosenberg--[126]
Why stood I not beneath it?

_C. Hun_. Friend! have a care, 100
Your next step may be fatal! --for the love
Of Him who made you, stand not on that brink!

_Man_. (_not hearing him_).
Such would have been for me a fitting tomb;
My bones had then been quiet in their depth;
They had not then been strewn upon the rocks
For the wind's pastime--as thus--thus they shall be--
In this one plunge. --Farewell, ye opening Heavens!
Look not upon me thus reproachfully--
You were not meant for me--Earth! take these atoms!

[_As_ MANFRED _is in act to spring from the cliff, the_
CHAMOIS HUNTER _seizes and retains him with a sudden grasp. _

_C. Hun_. Hold, madman! --though aweary of thy life, 110
Stain not our pure vales with thy guilty blood:
Away with me----I will not quit my hold.

_Man_. I am most sick at heart--nay, grasp me not--
I am all feebleness--the mountains whirl
Spinning around me----I grow blind----What art thou?

_C. Hun_. I'll answer that anon. --Away with me----
The clouds grow thicker----there--now lean on me--
Place your foot here--here, take this staff, and cling
A moment to that shrub--now give me your hand,
And hold fast by my girdle--softly--well-- 120
The Chalet will be gained within an hour:
Come on, we'll quickly find a surer footing,
And something like a pathway, which the torrent
Hath washed since winter. --Come,'tis bravely done--
You should have been a hunter. --Follow me.

[_As they descend the rocks with difficulty, the scene closes. _




ACT II.


SCENE I. --_A Cottage among the Bernese Alps_. --
MANFRED _and the_ CHAMOIS HUNTER.

_C. Hun_. No--no--yet pause--thou must not yet go forth;
Thy mind and body are alike unfit
To trust each other, for some hours, at least;
When thou art better, I will be thy guide--
But whither?

_Man_. It imports not: I do know
My route full well, and need no further guidance.

_C. Hun_. Thy garb and gait bespeak thee of high lineage--
One of the many chiefs, whose castled crags
Look o'er the lower valleys--which of these
May call thee lord? I only know their portals; 10
My way of life leads me but rarely down
To bask by the huge hearths of those old halls,
Carousing with the vassals; but the paths,
Which step from out our mountains to their doors,
I know from childhood--which of these is thine?

_Man_. No matter.

_C. Hun_. Well, Sir, pardon me the question,
And be of better cheer. Come, taste my wine;
'Tis of an ancient vintage; many a day
'T has thawed my veins among our glaciers, now
Let it do thus for thine--Come, pledge me fairly! 20

_Man_. Away, away! there's blood upon the brim!
Will it then never--never sink in the earth?

_C. Hun_. What dost thou mean? thy senses wander from thee.

_Man_. I say 'tis blood--my blood! the pure warm stream
Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours
When we were in our youth, and had one heart,
And loved each other as we should not love,[127]
And this was shed: but still it rises up,
Colouring the clouds, that shut me out from Heaven,
Where thou art not--and I shall never be. 30

_C. Hun_. Man of strange words, and some half-maddening sin,[ax]
Which makes thee people vacancy, whate'er
Thy dread and sufferance be, there's comfort yet--
The aid of holy men, and heavenly patience----

_Man_. Patience--and patience! Hence--that word was made
For brutes of burthen, not for birds of prey!
Preach it to mortals of a dust like thine,--
I am not of thine order.

_C. Hun_. Thanks to Heaven!
I would not be of thine for the free fame
Of William Tell; but whatsoe'er thine ill, 40
It must be borne, and these wild starts are useless.

_Man_. Do I not bear it? --Look on me--I live.

_C. Hun. _ This is convulsion, and no healthful life.

_Man_. I tell thee, man! I have lived many years,
Many long years, but they are nothing now
To those which I must number: ages--ages--
Space and eternity--and consciousness,
With the fierce thirst of death--and still unslaked!

_C. Hun_. Why on thy brow the seal of middle age
Hath scarce been set; I am thine elder far. 50

_Man_. Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? [128]
It doth; but actions are our epochs: mine
Have made my days and nights imperishable,
Endless, and all alike, as sands on the shore,
Innumerable atoms; and one desert,
Barren and cold, on which the wild waves break,
But nothing rests, save carcasses and wrecks,
Rocks, and the salt-surf weeds of bitterness.

_C. Hun_. Alas! he's mad--but yet I must not leave him.

_Man_. I would I were--for then the things I see 60
Would be but a distempered dream.

_C. Hun_. What is it
That thou dost see, or think thou look'st upon?

_Man_. Myself, and thee--a peasant of the Alps--
Thy humble virtues, hospitable home,
And spirit patient, pious, proud, and free;
Thy self-respect, grafted on innocent thoughts;
Thy days of health, and nights of sleep; thy toils,
By danger dignified, yet guiltless; hopes
Of cheerful old age and a quiet grave,
With cross and garland over its green turf, 70
And thy grandchildren's love for epitaph!
This do I see--and then I look within--
It matters not--my Soul was scorched already!

_C. Hun_.
And would'st thou then exchange thy lot for mine?

_Man_. No, friend! I would not wrong thee, nor exchange
My lot with living being: I can bear--
However wretchedly, 'tis still to bear--
In life what others could not brook to dream,
But perish in their slumber.

_C. Hun_. And with this--
This cautious feeling for another's pain, 80
Canst thou be black with evil? --say not so.
Can one of gentle thoughts have wreaked revenge
Upon his enemies?

_Man_. Oh! no, no, no!
My injuries came down on those who loved me--
On those whom I best loved: I never quelled
An enemy, save in my just defence--
But my embrace was fatal.

_C. Hun_. Heaven give thee rest!
And Penitence restore thee to thyself;
My prayers shall be for thee.

_Man_. I need them not,
But can endure thy pity. I depart-- 90
'Tis time--farewell! --Here's gold, and thanks for thee--
No words--it is thy due. --Follow me not--
I know my path--the mountain peril's past:
And once again I charge thee, follow not!
[_Exit_ MANFRED.


SCENE II. --_A lower Valley in the Alps. --A Cataract_.

_Enter_ MANFRED.

It is not noon--the Sunbow's rays[129] still arch
The torrent with the many hues of heaven,
And roll the sheeted silver's waving column
O'er the crag's headlong perpendicular,
And fling its lines of foaming light along,
And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail,
The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death,
As told in the Apocalypse. [130] No eyes
But mine now drink this sight of loveliness;
I should be sole in this sweet solitude, 10
And with the Spirit of the place divide
The homage of these waters. --I will call her.

[MANFRED _takes some of the water into the palm of his
hand and flings it into the air, muttering the ajuration.
After a pause, the_ WITCH OF THE ALPS _rises beneath
the arch of the sunbow of the torrent. _

Beautiful Spirit! with thy hair of light,
And dazzling eyes of glory, in whose form
The charms of Earth's least mortal daughters grow
To an unearthly stature, in an essence
Of purer elements; while the hues of youth,--
Carnationed like a sleeping Infant's cheek,
Rocked by the beating of her mother's heart,
Or the rose tints, which Summer's twilight leaves 20
Upon the lofty Glacier's virgin snow,
The blush of earth embracing with her Heaven,--
Tinge thy celestial aspect, and make tame
The beauties of the Sunbow which bends o'er thee.
Beautiful Spirit! in thy calm clear brow,
Wherein is glassed serenity of Soul,[ay]
Which of itself shows immortality,
I read that thou wilt pardon to a Son
Of Earth, whom the abstruser powers permit
At times to commune with them--if that he 30
Avail him of his spells--to call thee thus,
And gaze on thee a moment.

_Witch_. Son of Earth!
I know thee, and the Powers which give thee power!
I know thee for a man of many thoughts,
And deeds of good and ill, extreme in both,
Fatal and fated in thy sufferings.
I have expected this--what would'st thou with me?

_Man_. To look upon thy beauty--nothing further.
The face of the earth hath maddened me, and I
Take refuge in her mysteries, and pierce 40
To the abodes of those who govern her--
But they can nothing aid me. I have sought
From them what they could not bestow, and now
I search no further.

_Witch_. What could be the quest
Which is not in the power of the most powerful,
The rulers of the invisible?

_Man_. A boon;--
But why should I repeat it? 'twere in vain.

_Witch_. I know not that; let thy lips utter it.

_Man_. Well, though it torture me, 'tis but the same;
My pang shall find a voice. From my youth upwards 50
My Spirit walked not with the souls of men,
Nor looked upon the earth with human eyes;
The thirst of their ambition was not mine,
The aim of their existence was not mine;
My joys--my griefs--my passions--and my powers,
Made me a stranger; though I wore the form,
I had no sympathy with breathing flesh,
Nor midst the Creatures of Clay that girded me
Was there but One who--but of her anon.
I said with men, and with the thoughts of men, 60
I held but slight communion; but instead,
My joy was in the wilderness,--to breathe
The difficult air of the iced mountain's top,[131]
Where the birds dare not build--nor insect's wing
Flit o'er the herbless granite; or to plunge
Into the torrent, and to roll along
On the swift whirl of the new-breaking wave
Of river-stream, or Ocean, in their flow. [132]
In these my early strength exulted; or
To follow through the night the moving moon,[133] 70
The stars and their development; or catch
The dazzling lightnings till my eyes grew dim;
Or to look, list'ning, on the scattered leaves,
While Autumn winds were at their evening song.
These were my pastimes, and to be alone;
For if the beings, of whom I was one,--
Hating to be so,--crossed me in my path,
I felt myself degraded back to them,
And was all clay again. And then I dived,
In my lone wanderings, to the caves of Death, 80
Searching its cause in its effect; and drew
From withered bones, and skulls, and heaped up dust
Conclusions most forbidden. [134] Then I passed--
The nights of years in sciences untaught,
Save in the old-time; and with time and toil,
And terrible ordeal, and such penance
As in itself hath power upon the air,
And spirits that do compass air and earth,
Space, and the peopled Infinite, I made
Mine eyes familiar with Eternity, 90
Such as, before me, did the Magi, and
He who from out their fountain-dwellings raised
Eros and Anteros,[135] at Gadara,
As I do thee;--and with my knowledge grew
The thirst of knowledge, and the power and joy
Of this most bright intelligence, until----

_Witch_. Proceed.

_Man_. Oh! I but thus prolonged my words,
Boasting these idle attributes, because
As I approach the core of my heart's grief--
But--to my task. I have not named to thee 100
Father or mother, mistress, friend, or being,
With whom I wore the chain of human ties;
If I had such, they seemed not such to me--
Yet there was One----

_Witch_. Spare not thyself--proceed.

_Man_. She was like me in lineaments--her eyes--
Her hair--her features--all, to the very tone
Even of her voice, they said were like to mine;
But softened all, and tempered into beauty:
She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings,
The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind 110
To comprehend the Universe: nor these
Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine,
Pity, and smiles, and tears--which I had not;
And tenderness--but that I had for her;
Humility--and that I never had.
Her faults were mine--her virtues were her own--
I loved her, and destroyed her!

_Witch_. With thy hand?

_Man_. Not with my hand, but heart, which broke her heart;
It gazed on mine, and withered. I have shed
Blood, but not hers--and yet her blood was shed; 120
I saw--and could not stanch it.

_Witch_. And for this--
A being of the race thou dost despise--
The order, which thine own would rise above,
Mingling with us and ours,--thou dost forego
The gifts of our great knowledge, and shrink'st back
To recreant mortality----Away!

_Man_. Daughter of Air! I tell thee, since that hour--
But words are breath--look on me in my sleep,
Or watch my watchings--Come and sit by me!
My solitude is solitude no more, 130
But peopled with the Furies;--I have gnashed
My teeth in darkness till returning morn,
Then cursed myself till sunset;--I have prayed
For madness as a blessing--'tis denied me.
I have affronted Death--but in the war
Of elements the waters shrunk from me,[136]
And fatal things passed harmless; the cold hand
Of an all-pitiless Demon held me back,
Back by a single hair, which would not break.
In Fantasy, Imagination, all 140
The affluence of my soul--which one day was
A Croesus in creation--I plunged deep,
But, like an ebbing wave, it dashed me back
Into the gulf of my unfathomed thought.
I plunged amidst Mankind--Forgetfulness[137]
I sought in all, save where 'tis to be found--
And that I have to learn--my Sciences,
My long pursued and superhuman art,
Is mortal here: I dwell in my despair--
And live--and live for ever. [az]

_Witch_. It may be 150
That I can aid thee.

_Man_. To do this thy power
Must wake the dead, or lay me low with them.
Do so--in any shape--in any hour--
With any torture--so it be the last.

_Witch_. That is not in my province; but if thou
Wilt swear obedience to my will, and do
My bidding, it may help thee to thy wishes.

_Man_. I will not swear--Obey! and whom? the Spirits
Whose presence I command, and be the slave
Of those who served me--Never!

_Witch_. Is this all? 160
Hast thou no gentler answer? --Yet bethink thee,
And pause ere thou rejectest.

_Man_. I have said it.

_Witch_. Enough! I may retire then--say!

_Man_. Retire!

[_The_ WITCH _disappears. _

_Man_. (_alone_). We are the fools of Time and Terror: Days
Steal on us, and steal from us; yet we live,
Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
In all the days of this detested yoke--
This vital weight upon the struggling heart,
Which sinks with sorrow, or beats quick with pain,
Or joy that ends in agony or faintness-- 170
In all the days of past and future--for
In life there is no present--we can number
How few--how less than few--wherein the soul
Forbears to pant for death, and yet draws back
As from a stream in winter, though the chill[ba]
Be but a moment's. I have one resource
Still in my science--I can call the dead,
And ask them what it is we dread to be:
The sternest answer can but be the Grave,
And that is nothing: if they answer not-- 180
The buried Prophet answered to the Hag
Of Endor; and the Spartan Monarch drew
From the Byzantine maid's unsleeping spirit
An answer and his destiny--he slew
That which he loved, unknowing what he slew,
And died unpardoned--though he called in aid
The Phyxian Jove, and in Phigalia roused
The Arcadian Evocators to compel
The indignant shadow to depose her wrath,
Or fix her term of vengeance--she replied 190
In words of dubious import, but fulfilled. [138]
If I had never lived, that which I love
Had still been living; had I never loved,
That which I love would still be beautiful,
Happy and giving happiness. What is she?
What is she now? --a sufferer for my sins--
A thing I dare not think upon--or nothing.
Within few hours I shall not call in vain--
Yet in this hour I dread the thing I dare:
Until this hour I never shrunk to gaze 200
On spirit, good or evil--now I tremble,
And feel a strange cold thaw upon my heart.
But I can act even what I most abhor,
And champion human fears. --The night approaches.
[_Exit. _


SCENE III. --_The summit of the Jungfrau Mountain. _

_Enter_ FIRST DESTINY.

The Moon is rising broad, and round, and bright;
And here on snows, where never human foot[139]
Of common mortal trod, we nightly tread,
And leave no traces: o'er the savage sea,
The glassy ocean of the mountain ice,
We skim its rugged breakers, which put on
The aspect of a tumbling tempest's foam,
Frozen in a moment[140]--a dead Whirlpool's image:
And this most steep fantastic pinnacle,
The fretwork of some earthquake--where the clouds 10
Pause to repose themselves in passing by--
Is sacred to our revels, or our vigils;
Here do I wait my sisters, on our way
To the Hall of Arimanes--for to-night
Is our great festival[141]--'tis strange they come not.

_A Voice without, singing. _

The Captive Usurper,
Hurled down from the throne,
Lay buried in torpor,
Forgotten and lone;
I broke through his slumbers, 20
I shivered his chain,
I leagued him with numbers--
He's Tyrant again!
With the blood of a million he'll answer my care,
With a Nation's destruction--his flight and despair! [142]


_Second Voice, without. _

The Ship sailed on, the Ship sailed fast,
But I left not a sail, and I left not a mast;
There is not a plank of the hull or the deck,
And there is not a wretch to lament o'er his wreck;
Save one, whom I held, as he swam, by the hair, 30
And he was a subject well worthy my care;
A traitor on land, and a pirate at sea--[143]
But I saved him to wreak further havoc for me!

FIRST DESTINY, _answering. _

The City lies sleeping;
The morn, to deplore it,
May dawn on it weeping:
Sullenly, slowly,
The black plague flew o'er it--
Thousands lie lowly;
Tens of thousands shall perish; 40
The living shall fly from
The sick they should cherish;
But nothing can vanquish
The touch that they die from.
Sorrow and anguish,
And evil and dread,
Envelope a nation;
The blest are the dead,
Who see not the sight
Of their own desolation; 50
This work of a night--
This wreck of a realm--this deed of my doing--
For ages I've done, and shall still be renewing!

_Enter the_ SECOND _and_ THIRD DESTINIES.

_The Three. _

Our hands contain the hearts of men,
Our footsteps are their graves;
We only give to take again
The Spirits of our slaves!

_First Des_. Welcome! --Where's Nemesis?

_Second Des_. At some great work;
But what I know not, for my hands were full.

_Third Des_. Behold she cometh.

_Enter_ NEMESIS.

_First Des_. Say, where hast thou been? 60
My Sisters and thyself are slow to-night.

_Nem_. I was detained repairing shattered thrones--
Marrying fools, restoring dynasties--
Avenging men upon their enemies,
And making them repent their own revenge;
Goading the wise to madness; from the dull
Shaping out oracles to rule the world
Afresh--for they were waxing out of date,
And mortals dared to ponder for themselves,
To weigh kings in the balance--and to speak 70
Of Freedom, the forbidden fruit. --Away!
We have outstayed the hour--mount we our clouds!
[_Exeunt. _


SCENE IV. --_The Hall of Arimanes. _[144]--_Arimanes on his Throne,
a Globe of Fire,[145] surrounded by the Spirits. _

_Hymn of the_ SPIRITS.

Hail 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.
Beneath his footsteps the Volcanoes rise;
His shadow is the Pestilence: his path 10
The comets herald through the crackling skies;[bb]
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_ DESTINIES _and_ NEMESIS.

_First Des_. Glory to Arimanes! on the earth
His power increaseth--both my sisters did
His bidding, nor did I neglect my duty!

_Second Des_. Glory to Arimanes! we who bow 20
The necks of men, bow down before his throne!

_Third Des_. Glory to Arimanes! we await
His nod!

_Nem_. Sovereign of Sovereigns! we are thine,
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_ MANFRED.

_A Spirit_. What is here?
A mortal! --Thou most rash and fatal wretch,
Bow down and worship!

_Second Spirit_. I do know the man-- 30
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.

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

_Fourth Spirit_. 'Twill be taught thee.

_Man_. 'Tis taught already;--many a night on the earth,
On the bare ground, have I bowed down my face,
And strewed my head with ashes; I have known
The fulness of humiliation--for 40
I sunk before my vain despair, and knelt
To my own desolation.

_Fifth Spirit_. Dost thou dare
Refuse to Arimanes on his throne
What the whole earth accords, beholding not
The terror of his Glory? --Crouch! I say.

_Man_. Bid _him_ bow 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_.