Manfred (With Byron's Biography). Lord Byron

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. Accurséd! 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 thou116 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 dwell210

       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 feel220

       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 compelav250 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 together260

       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,