Chapter 7

_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."]

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