_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;
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
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 these few years.[4]
_Her._ 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--
_Her._ 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._
_Her._ Come--who follows?
What, none of ye?--ye recreants! shiver then
Without. I will not see old Manuel risk
His few remaining years unaided. [HERMAN _goes in._
_Vassal._ Hark!--
No--all is silent--not a breath--the flame
Which shot forth such a blaze is also gone;
What may this mean? Let's enter!
_Peasant._ 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._) 'Tis all in vain--
He's dead.
_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.
_Her._ '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 difficult
to die. [MANFRED _having said this expires._
_Her._ His eyes are fixed and lifeless.--He is gone.--
_Manuel._ Close them.--My old hand quivers.--He departs--
Whither? I dread to think--but he is gone!
[Footnote 1: It will be perceived that, as far as this, the original
matter of the third Act has been retained.]
[Footnote 2: "Raven-stone (Rabenstein), a translation of the German word
for the gibbet, which in Germany and Switzerland is permanent, and made
of stone."]
[Footnote 3: 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.]
[Footnote 4: Altered in the present form, to "some strange things in
them, Herman."]
* * * * *