No More Learning

_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Afresh--for they were waxing out of date,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_. Crush the worm!
Tear him in pieces! --

_First Des_. Hence! Avaunt! --he's mine. 50
Prince of the Powers invisible! This man
Is of no common order, as his port
And presence here denote: his sufferings
Have been of an immortal nature--like
Our own; his knowledge, and his powers and will,
As far as is compatible with clay,
Which clogs the ethereal essence, have been such
As clay hath seldom borne; his aspirations
Have been beyond the dwellers of the earth,
And they have only taught him what we know-- 60
That knowledge is not happiness, and science[146]
But an exchange of ignorance for that
Which is another kind of ignorance.
This is not all--the passions, attributes
Of Earth and Heaven, from which no power, nor being,
Nor breath from the worm upwards is exempt,
Have pierced his heart; and in their consequence
Made him a thing--which--I who pity not,
Yet pardon those who pity. He is mine--
And thine it may be; be it so, or not-- 70
No other Spirit in this region hath
A soul like his--or power upon his soul.

_Nem_. What doth he here then?

_First Des_. Let _him_ answer that.

_Man_. Ye know what I have known; and without power
I could not be amongst ye: but there are
Powers deeper still beyond--I come in quest
Of such, to answer unto what I seek.

_Nem_. What would'st thou?

_Man_. _Thou_ canst not reply to me.
Call up the dead--my question is for them.

_Nem_. Great Arimanes, doth thy will avouch 80
The wishes of this mortal?

_Ari_. Yea.

_Nem_. Whom wouldst thou
Uncharnel?

_Man_. One without a tomb--call up
Astarte. [147]


NEMESIS.

Shadow! or Spirit!
Whatever thou art,
Which still doth inherit[bc]
The whole or a part
Of the form of thy birth,
Of the mould of thy clay,
Which returned to the earth, 90
Re-appear to the day!
Bear what thou borest,
The heart and the form,
And the aspect thou worest
Redeem from the worm.
Appear! --Appear! --Appear!
Who sent thee there requires thee here!

[_The Phantom of_ ASTARTE _rises and stands in the midst_.

_Man_. Can this be death? there's bloom upon her cheek;
But now I see it is no living hue,
But a strange hectic--like the unnatural red 100
Which Autumn plants upon the perished leaf. [148]
It is the same! Oh, God! that I should dread
To look upon the same--Astarte! --No,
I cannot speak to her--but bid her speak--
Forgive me or condemn me.

NEMESIS.

By the Power which hath broken
The grave which enthralled thee,
Speak to him who hath spoken.
Or those who have called thee!

_Man_. She is silent,
And in that silence I am more than answered. 110

_Nem_. My power extends no further. Prince of Air!
It rests with thee alone--command her voice.

_Ari_. Spirit--obey this sceptre!

_Nem_. Silent still!
She is not of our order, but belongs
To the other powers. Mortal! thy quest is vain,
And we are baffled also.

_Man_. Hear me, hear me--
Astarte! my beloved! speak to me:
I have so much endured--so much endure--
Look on me! the grave hath not changed thee more
Than I am changed for thee. Thou lovedst me 120
Too much, as I loved thee: we were not made
To torture thus each other--though it were
The deadliest sin to love as we have loved.
Say that thou loath'st me not--that I do bear
This punishment for both--that thou wilt be
One of the blessed--and that I shall die;
For hitherto all hateful things conspire
To bind me in existence--in a life
Which makes me shrink from Immortality--
A future like the past. I cannot rest. 130
I know not what I ask, nor what I seek:
I feel but what thou art, and what I am;
And I would hear yet once before I perish
The voice which was my music--Speak to me!
For I have called on thee in the still night,
Startled the slumbering birds from the hushed boughs,
And woke the mountain wolves, and made the caves
Acquainted with thy vainly echoed name,
Which answered me--many things answered me--
Spirits and men--but thou wert silent all. 140
Yet speak to me! I have outwatched the stars,
And gazed o'er heaven in vain in search of thee.
Speak to me! I have wandered o'er the earth,
And never found thy likeness--Speak to me!
Look on the fiends around--they feel for me:
I fear them not, and feel for thee alone.
Speak to me! though it be in wrath;--but say--
I reck not what--but let me hear thee once--
This once--once more!

_Phantom of Astarte_. Manfred!

_Man_. Say on, say on--
I live but in the sound--it is thy voice! 150

_Phan_. Manfred! To-morrow ends thine earthly ills.
Farewell!

_Man_. Yet one word more--am I forgiven?

_Phan_. Farewell!

_Man_. Say, shall we meet again?

_Phan_. Farewell!

_Man_. One word for mercy! Say thou lovest me.

_Phan_. Manfred!

[_The Spirit of_ ASTARTE _disappears_.

_Nem_. She's gone, and will not be recalled:
Her words will be fulfilled. Return to the earth.

_A Spirit_. He is convulsed--This is to be a mortal,
And seek the things beyond mortality.

_Another Spirit_. Yet, see, he mastereth himself, and makes
His torture tributary to his will. [149] 160
Had he been one of us, he would have made
An awful Spirit.

_Nem_. Hast thou further question
Of our great Sovereign, or his worshippers?

_Man_. None.

_Nem_. Then for a time farewell.

_Man_. We meet then! Where? On the earth? --
Even as thou wilt: and for the grace accorded
I now depart a debtor. Fare ye well!
[_Exit_ MANFRED.

(_Scene closes_. )




ACT III.

SCENE I. --_A Hall in the Castle of Manfred_. [150]

MANFRED _and_ HERMAN.

_Man_. What is the hour?

_Her_. It wants but one till sunset,
And promises a lovely twilight.

_Man_. Say,
Are all things so disposed of in the tower
As I directed?

_Her_. All, my Lord, are ready:
Here is the key and casket. [151]

_Man_. It is well:
Thou mayst retire. [_Exit_ HERMAN.

_Man_. (_alone_).
There is a calm upon me--
Inexplicable stillness! which till now
Did not belong to what I knew of life.
If that I did not know Philosophy
To be of all our vanities the motliest, 10
The merest word that ever fooled the ear
From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem
The golden secret, the sought "Kalon," found,[152]
And seated in my soul. It will not last,
But it is well to have known it, though but once:
It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense,
And I within my tablets would note down
That there is such a feeling. Who is there?

_Re-enter_ HERMAN.

_Her_. My Lord, the Abbot of St. Maurice craves[153]
To greet your presence.

_Enter the_ ABBOT OF ST. MAURICE.

_Abbot_. Peace be with Count Manfred! 20

_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, 30
And busy with thy name--a noble name
For centuries: may he who bears it now
Transmit it unimpaired!

_Man_. Proceed,--I listen.

_Abbot_. 'Tis said thou holdest converse with the things
Which are forbidden to the search of man;
That with the dwellers of the dark abodes,
The many evil and unheavenly spirits
Which walk the valley of the Shade of Death,
Thou communest. I know that with mankind,
Thy fellows in creation, thou dost rarely 40
Exchange thy thoughts, and that thy solitude
Is as an Anchorite's--were it but holy.

_Man_. And what are they who do avouch these things?

_Abbot_. My pious brethren--the scared peasantry--
Even thy own vassals--who do look on thee
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 50
With the true church, and through the church to Heaven.

_Man_. I hear thee. This is my reply--whate'er
I may have been, or am, doth rest between
Heaven and myself--I shall not choose a mortal
To be my mediator--Have I sinned
Against your ordinances? prove and punish! [154]

_Abbot_. My son! I did not speak of punishment,[155]
But penitence and pardon;--with thyself
The choice of such remains--and for the last,
Our institutions and our strong belief 60
Have given me power to smooth the path from sin
To higher hope and better thoughts; the first
I leave to Heaven,--"Vengeance is mine alone! "
So saith the Lord, and with all humbleness
His servant echoes back the awful word.

_Man_. Old man! there is no power in holy men,
Nor charm in prayer, nor purifying form
Of penitence, nor outward look, nor fast,
Nor agony--nor, greater than all these,
The innate tortures of that deep Despair, 70
Which is Remorse without the fear of Hell,
But all in all sufficient to itself
Would make a hell of Heaven--can exorcise
From out the unbounded spirit the quick sense
Of its own sins--wrongs--sufferance--and revenge
Upon itself; there is no future pang
Can deal that justice on the self--condemned
He deals on his own soul.

_Abbot_. All this is well;
For this will pass away, and be succeeded
By an auspicious hope, which shall look up 80
With calm assurafice to that blessed place,
Which all who seek may win, whatever be
Their earthly errors, so they be atoned:
And the commencement of atonement is
The sense of its necessity. Say on--
And all our church can teach thee shall be taught;
And all we can absolve thee shall be pardoned.

_Man_. When Rome's sixth Emperor[156] was near his last,
The victim of a self-inflicted wound,
To shun the torments of a public death[bd] 90
From senates once his slaves, a certain soldier,
With show of loyal pity, would have stanched
The gushing throat with his officious robe;
The dying Roman thrust him back, and said--
Some empire still in his expiring glance--
"It is too late--is this fidelity? "

_Abbot_. And what of this?

_Man_. I answer with the Roman--
"It is too late! "

_Abbot_. It never can be so,
To reconcile thyself with thy own soul,
And thy own soul with Heaven. Hast thou no hope? 100
'Tis strange--even those who do despair above,
Yet shape themselves some fantasy on earth,
To which frail twig they cling, like drowning men.

_Man_. Aye--father! I have had those early visions,
And noble aspirations in my youth,
To make my own the mind of other men,
The enlightener of nations; and to rise
I knew not whither--it might be to fall;
But fall, even as the mountain-cataract,
Which having leapt from its more dazzling height, 110
Even in the foaming strength of its abyss,
(Which casts up misty columns that become
Clouds raining from the re-ascended skies,)[157]
Lies low but mighty still. --But this is past,
My thoughts mistook themselves.

_Abbot_. And wherefore so?

_Man_. I could not tame my nature down; for he
Must serve who fain would sway; and soothe, and sue,
And watch all time, and pry into all place,
And be a living Lie, who would become
A mighty thing amongst the mean--and such 120
The mass are; I disdained to mingle with
A herd, though to be leader--and of wolves,
The lion is alone, and so am I.

_Abbot_. And why not live and act with other men?

_Man_. 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,[158]
Which dwells but in the desert, and sweeps o'er
The barren sands which bear no shrubs to blast, 130
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_. Alas!
I 'gin to fear that thou art past all aid
From me and from my calling; yet so young,
I still would----

_Man_. Look on me! there is an order
Of mortals on the earth, who do become
Old in their youth, and die ere middle age,[159] 140
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--
And some of withered, or of broken hearts;
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, 150
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_. Yet, hear me still--

_Man_. 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_. This should have been a noble creature: he 160
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
Mixed, 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. 170
I'll follow him--but cautiously, though surely.
[Exit ABBOT.


SCENE II. --_Another Chamber_.

MANFRED _and_ HERMAN.

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

_Man_. Doth he so?
I will look on him.
[MANFRED _advances to the Window of the Hall_.
Glorious Orb! the idol[160]
Of early nature, and the vigorous race
Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons[161]
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, ere
The mystery of thy making was revealed! 10
Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,
Which gladdened, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they poured[162]
Themselves in orisons! Thou material God!
And representative of the Unknown--
Who chose thee for his shadow! Thou chief Star!
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, 20
And those who dwell in them! for near or far,
Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee
Even as our outward aspects;--thou dost 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 gone--
I follow. [_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.

_Her_. '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; 10
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 20
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.

_Her_. 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. [be]

_Her_. Come, be friendly; 30
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,[163] 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; 40
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----[164]
Hush! who comes here?

_Enter the_ ABBOT.

_Abbot_. Where is your master?

_Her_. Yonder in the tower.

_Abbot_. I must speak with him.

_Manuel_. 'Tis impossible;
He is most private, and must not be thus 50
Intruded on.

_Abbot_. Upon myself I take
The forfeit of my fault, if fault there be--
But I must see him.

_Her_. Thou hast seen him once
his eve already.

_Abbot_. Herman! I command thee,[bf]
Knock, and apprize the Count of my approach.

_Her_. We dare not.

_Abbot_. Then it seems I must be herald
Of my own purpose.

_Manuel_. Reverend father, stop--
I pray you pause.

_Abbot_. Why so?

_Manuel_. But step this way,
And I will tell you further. [_Exeunt_.


SCENE IV. --_Interior of the Tower_.

MANFRED _alone_.

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains. --Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the Night[165]
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness,
I learned the language of another world.
I do remember me, that in my youth,
When I was wandering,--upon such a night
I stood within the Coliseum's wall,[166] 10
'Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome;
The trees which grew along the broken arches
Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars
Shone through the rents of ruin; from afar
The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber; and
More near from out the Caesars' palace came
The owl's long cry, and, interruptedly,[167]
Of distant sentinels the fitful song
Begun and died upon the gentle wind. [168]
Some cypresses beyond the time-worn breach 20
Appeared to skirt the horizon, yet they stood
Within a bowshot. Where the Caesars dwelt,
And dwell the tuneless birds of night, amidst
A grove which springs through levelled battlements,
And twines its roots with the imperial hearths,
Ivy usurps the laurel's place of growth;
But the gladiators' bloody Circus stands,
A noble wreck in ruinous perfection,
While Caesar's chambers, and the Augustan halls,
Grovel on earth in indistinct decay. -- 30
And thou didst shine, thou rolling Moon, upon
All this, and cast a wide and tender light,
Which softened down the hoar austerity
Of rugged desolation, and filled up,
As 'twere anew, the gaps of centuries;
Leaving that beautiful which still was so,
And making that which was not--till the place
Became religion, and the heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the Great of old,--
The dead, but sceptred, Sovereigns, who still rule 40
Our spirits from their urns.
'Twas such a night!
'Tis strange that I recall it at this time;
But I have found our thoughts take wildest flight
Even at the moment when they should array
Themselves in pensive order.

_Enter the_ ABBOT.

_Abbot_. My good Lord!
I crave a second grace for this approach;
But yet let not my humble zeal offend
By its abruptness--all it hath of ill
Recoils on me; its good in the effect
May light upon your head--could I say _heart_-- 50
Could I touch _that_, with words or prayers, I should
Recall a noble spirit which hath wandered,
But is not yet all lost.

_Man_. Thou know'st me not;
My days are numbered, and my deeds recorded:
Retire, or 'twill be dangerous--Away!

_Abbot_.