The aspect and the form of breathing men.

But grief should be the instructor of the wise;

10 Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the

most

Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal 50

truth,

The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life. Philosophy and science, and the springs Of wonder, and the wisdom of the world, 15 I have essay'd, and in my mind there is A power to make these subject to itselfBut they avail not: I have done men good, And I have met with good even among

men

But this avail'd not: I have had my foes, 20 And none have baffled, many fallen before

me

But this avail'd not:-Good, or evil, life, Powers, passions, all I see in other beings, Have been to me as rain unto the sands, Since that all-nameless hour. I have no dread,

55

60

25 And feel the curse to have no natural fear, Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes 65 or wishes,

Or lurking love of something on the earth.
Now to my task.-

Mysterious agency!
Ye spirits of the unbounded Universe!
30 Whom I have sought in darkness and in
light-

Ye, who do compass earth about, and dwell
In subtler essence-ye, to whom the tops
Of mountains inaccessible are haunts,
And earth's and ocean's caves familiar
things-

35 I call upon ye by the written charm
Which gives me power upon you-Rise!
Appear!
[A pause.

They come not yet.-Now by the voice of
him

Who is the first among you-by this sign,
Which makes you tremble-by the claims

of him

70

75

80

[A pause.

85

If it be so-Spirits of earth and air,
Ye shall not thus elude me: by a power,
Deeper than all yet urged, a tyrant-spell,
Which had its birthplace in a star con-
demn'd,

45 The burning wreck of a demolish'd world,
A wandering hell in the eternal space;
By the strong curse which is upon my
soul,

The thought which is within me and

around me,

I do compel ye to my will-Appear!

90

[A star is seen at the darker end of the gallery: it is stationary; and a voice is heard singing.

First Spirit

Mortal! to thy bidding bow'd,
From my mansion in the cloud,
Which the breath of twilight builds,
And the summer's sunset gilds
With the azure and vermilion,
Which is mix'd for my pavilion;
Though thy quest may be forbidden,
On a star-beam I have ridden:
To thine adjuration bow'd,
Mortal-be thy wish avow'd!

Voice of the Second Spirit

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;

They crown'd him long ago

On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,

With a diadem of snow.

Around his waist are forests braced,

The avalanche in his hand;
But ere it fall, that thundering ball
Must pause for my command.
The glacier's cold and restless mass
Moves onward day by day;
But I am he who bids it pass,
Or with its ice delay.

I am the spirit of the place,
Could make the mountain bow
And quiver to his cavern'd base-
And what with me would thou?

Voice of the Third Spirit

In the blue depth of the waters,
Where the wave hath no strife,
Where the wind is a stranger,
And the sea-snake hath life,
Where the mermaid is decking
Her green hair with shells,
Like the storm on the surface
Came the sound of thy spells;
O'er my calm Hall of Coral
The deep echo roll'd-
To the Spirit of Ocean

Thy wishes unfold!

Fourth Spirit

Where the slumbering earthquake

Lies pillow'd on fire,

And the lakes of bitumen

Rise boilingly higher;

Where the roots of the Andes

Strike deep in the earth,

As their summits to heaven

Shoot soaringly forth; I have quitted my birthplace, Thy bidding to bideThy spell hath subdued me, Thy will be my guide!

Fifth Spirit

I am the rider of the wind,
The stirrer of the storm;
The hurricane I left behind

Is yet with lightning warm;
To speed to thee, o'er shore and sea
I swept upon the blast:

The fleet I met sail'd well, and yet "Twill sink ere night be past.

Sixth Spirit

My dwelling is the shadow of the night, Why doth thy magic torture me with light?

Seventh Spirit

The star which rules thy destiny
Was ruled, ere earth began, by me:
It was a world as fresh and fair
As e'er revolved round sun in air;
Its course was free and regular,
Space bosom'd not a lovelier star.
The hour arrived-and it became
A wandering mass of shapeless flame,
A pathless comet, and a curse,

The menace of the universe;
Still rolling on with innate force,
Without sphere, without a course,
A bright deformity on high,

The monster of the upper sky!

And thou! beneath its influence bornThou worm! whom I obey and scorn

forget;

150 We are eternal; and to us the past Is, as the future, present. Art thou answer'd?

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,

155 The lightning of my being, is as bright, Pervading, and far darting as your own, And shall not yield to yours, though coop'd in clay!

Answer, or I will teach you what I am.
Spirit. We answer as we answer'd; our

reply

thine,

And lent thee but to make thee mine). For this brief moment to descend, Where these weak spirits round thee bend

And parley with a thing like theeWhat wouldst thou, child of Clay! with me?

The Seven Spirits Earth, ocean, air, night, mountains, winds, thy star,

Are at thy beck and bidding, child of Clay!

Before thee at thy quest their spirits

are

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?

say?

gone!

Of which we are the mind and principle:
But choose a form-in that we will appear. 225
Man. I have no choice; there is no
form on earth

185 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). Be-
hold!

Man. Oh God! if it be thus, and thou
Art not a madness and a mockery,

190 I yet might be most happy, I will clasp

230

235

240

245

250

255

And forever shalt thou dwell 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 turn'd around thy head,
Thou shalt marvel I am not
As thy shadow on the spot,
And the power which thou dost feel
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,
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 snatch'd the
snake,

For there it coil'd as in a brake;1
From thy own lip I drew the charm
Which gave all these their chiefest
harm;

In proving every poison known,
I found the strongest was thine own.

By thy cold breast and serpent smile,
By thy unfathom'd gulfs of guile,
By that most seeming virtuous eye,
By thy shut soul's hypocrisy;
By the perfection of thine art
Which pass'd for human thine own
heart;

By thy delight in others' pain,

And by thy brotherhood of Cain,
I call upon thee! and compel

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,

1 thicket

And the clankless chain hath bound thee;

260 O'er thy heart and brain together

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 reck'd of tortured me; I lean no more on superhuman aid; 5 It hath no power upon the past, and for The future, till the past be gulf'd in darkness,

It is not of my search.-My mother Earth! And thou fresh breaking day, and you, ye mountains,

Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye. 10 And thou, the bright eye of the universe, That openest over all, and unto all

Art a delight-thou shin'st not on my heart.

And you, ye crags, upon whose extreme

To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence

make

A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will, 45 Till our mortality predominates,

50

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 reedFor here the patriarchal days are not A pastoral fable-pipes in the liberal air, Mix'd with the sweet bells of the sauntering herd:

My soul would drink those echoes. Oh,
that I were

The viewless spirit of a lovely sound,
A living voice, a breathing harmony,
55 A bodiless enjoyment1-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 today will

up

Place your foot here-here, take this staff, and eling

A moment to that shrub-now give me your hand,

120 And hold fast by my girdle-softly—

well

And something like a pathway, which the torrent

Hath wash'd since winter.-Come, 'tis bravely done

splinters;

Damming the rivers with a sudden dash, Which crush'd the waters into mist and

made

Their fountains find another channel

thus,

Thus, in its old age, did Mount Rosenberg

100 Why stood I not beneath it?

C. Hun.
Friend! have a care,
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;

105 They had not then been strewn upon the rocks

For the wind's pastime-as thus-thus they shall be—

me. [As they descend the rocks with difficulty, the scene closes.

ACT II SCENE I

A Cottage amongst 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 guide5 But whither?

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

1 See King Lear, IV, 6. In Tate's adaptation of King Lear, Edgar seizes Gloster, his blind father, as he is about to leap from what he thinks is Dover Cliff.