Lord Byron

Manfred (With Byron's Biography)


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is Knowledge."

      Act I. sc. 1, line 10, vide ante, p. 85.

      Compare, too—

      "Well didst thou speak, Athena's wisest son!

       'All that we know is, nothing can be known.'"

      Childe Harold, Canto II. stanza vii. lines 1, 2, Poetical Works, 1899, ii. 103.]

      "Moonéd Ashtaroth,

       Heaven's queen and mother both."

      Cicero says that she was married to Adonis, alluding, no doubt, to the myth of the Phoenician Astoreth, who was at once the bride and mother of Tammuz or Adonis.]

      " ... illume

       With hectic light, the Hesperus of the dead,

       Of her consuming cheek the autumnal leaf-like red."

      Childe Harold, Canto IV. stanza cii. lines 7-9.]

      " ... a firm will, and a deep sense,

       Which even in torture can descry

       Its own concentered recompense."

      Prometheus, iii. 55-57, vide ante, p. 51.]

      Abbot. Then, hear and tremble! For the headstrong wretch Who in the mail of innate hardihood Would shield himself, and battle for his sins, There is the stake on earth—and beyond earth Eternal—

      Man. Charity, most reverend father, Becomes thy lips so much more than this menace, That I would call thee back to it: but say, What would'st thou with me?

      Abbot. It may be there are Things that would shake thee—but I keep them back, And give thee till to-morrow to repent.10 Then if thou dost not all devote thyself To penance, and with gift of all thy lands To the Monastery——

      Man. I understand thee,—well!

      Abbot. Expect no mercy; I have warned thee.

      Man. (opening the casket). Stop— There is a gift for thee within this casket. Manfred opens the casket, strikes a light, and burns some incense. Ho! Ashtaroth!

      The Demon Ashtaroth appears, singing as follows:—

      The raven sits

       On the Raven-stone,[A] And his black wing flits O'er the milk—white bone;20 To and fro, as the night—winds blow, The carcass of the assassin swings; And there alone, on the Raven-stone, The raven flaps his dusky wings.

      The fetters creak—and his ebon beak

       Croaks to the close of the hollow sound;

       And this is the tune, by the light of the Moon,

       To which the Witches dance their round—

       Merrily—merrily—cheerily—cheerily—

       Merrily—merrily—speeds the ball:30

       The dead in their shrouds, and the Demons in clouds,

       Flock to the Witches' Carnival.

      Abbot. I fear thee not—hence—hence— Avaunt thee, evil One!—help, ho! without there!

      Man. Convey this man to the Shreckhorn—to its peak— To its extremest peak—watch with him there From now till sunrise; let him gaze, and know He ne'er again will be so near to Heaven. But harm him not; and, when the morrow breaks, Set him down safe in his cell—away with him!40

      Ash. Had I not better bring his brethren too, Convent and all, to bear him company?

      Man. No, this will serve for the present. Take him up.

      Ash. Come, Friar! now an exorcism or two, And we shall fly the lighter.

      Ashtaroth disappears with the Abbot, singing as follows:—

      A prodigal son, and a maid undone,[B] And a widow re-wedded within the year; And a worldly monk, and a pregnant nun, Are things which every day appear.

      Manfred alone.

      Man. Why would this fool break in on me, and force50 My art to pranks fantastical?—no matter, It was not of my seeking. My heart sickens, And weighs a fixed