Chapter XI: Act III: SCENE I.--A Hall in the Castle of Manfred.150

MANFRED _and_ HERMAN.

_Man_. What is the hour?

_Her_. It wants but one till sunset,
And promises a lovely twilight.

_Man_. Say,
Are all things so disposed of in the tower
As I directed?

_Her_. All, my Lord, are ready:
Here is the key and casket.[151]

_Man_. It is well:
Thou mayst retire. [_Exit_ HERMAN.

_Man_. (_alone_). There is a calm upon me--
Inexplicable stillness! which till now
Did not belong to what I knew of life.
If that I did not know Philosophy
To be of all our vanities the motliest, 10
The merest word that ever fooled the ear
From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem
The golden secret, the sought "Kalon," found,[152]
And seated in my soul. It will not last,
But it is well to have known it, though but once:
It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense,
And I within my tablets would note down
That there is such a feeling. Who is there?

_Re-enter_ HERMAN.

_Her_. My Lord, the Abbot of St. Maurice craves[153]
To greet your presence.

_Enter the_ ABBOT OF ST. MAURICE.

_Abbot_. Peace be with Count Manfred! 20

_Man_. Thanks, holy father! welcome to these walls;
Thy presence honours them, and blesseth those
Who dwell within them.

_Abbot_. Would it were so, Count!--
But I would fain confer with thee alone.

_Man_. Herman, retire.--What would my reverend guest?

_Abbot_. Thus, without prelude:--Age and zeal--my office--
And good intent must plead my privilege;
Our near, though not acquainted neighbourhood,
May also be my herald. Rumours strange,
And of unholy nature, are abroad, 30
And busy with thy name--a noble name
For centuries: may he who bears it now
Transmit it unimpaired!

_Man_. Proceed,--I listen.

_Abbot_. 'Tis said thou holdest converse with the things
Which are forbidden to the search of man;
That with the dwellers of the dark abodes,
The many evil and unheavenly spirits
Which walk the valley of the Shade of Death,
Thou communest. I know that with mankind,
Thy fellows in creation, thou dost rarely 40
Exchange thy thoughts, and that thy solitude
Is as an Anchorite's--were it but holy.

_Man_. And what are they who do avouch these things?

_Abbot_. My pious brethren--the scaréd peasantry--
Even thy own vassals--who do look on thee
With most unquiet eyes. Thy life's in peril!

_Man_. Take it.

_Abbot_. I come to save, and not destroy:
I would not pry into thy secret soul;
But if these things be sooth, there still is time
For penitence and pity: reconcile thee 50
With the true church, and through the church to Heaven.

_Man_. I hear thee. This is my reply--whate'er
I may have been, or am, doth rest between
Heaven and myself--I shall not choose a mortal
To be my mediator--Have I sinned
Against your ordinances? prove and punish![154]

_Abbot_. My son! I did not speak of punishment,[155]
But penitence and pardon;--with thyself
The choice of such remains--and for the last,
Our institutions and our strong belief 60
Have given me power to smooth the path from sin
To higher hope and better thoughts; the first
I leave to Heaven,--"Vengeance is mine alone!"
So saith the Lord, and with all humbleness
His servant echoes back the awful word.

_Man_. Old man! there is no power in holy men,
Nor charm in prayer, nor purifying form
Of penitence, nor outward look, nor fast,
Nor agony--nor, greater than all these,
The innate tortures of that deep Despair, 70
Which is Remorse without the fear of Hell,
But all in all sufficient to itself
Would make a hell of Heaven--can exorcise
From out the unbounded spirit the quick sense
Of its own sins--wrongs--sufferance--and revenge
Upon itself; there is no future pang
Can deal that justice on the self--condemned
He deals on his own soul.

_Abbot_. All this is well;
For this will pass away, and be succeeded
By an auspicious hope, which shall look up 80
With calm assurafice to that blessed place,
Which all who seek may win, whatever be
Their earthly errors, so they be atoned:
And the commencement of atonement is
The sense of its necessity. Say on--
And all our church can teach thee shall be taught;
And all we can absolve thee shall be pardoned.

_Man_. When Rome's sixth Emperor[156] was near his last,
The victim of a self-inflicted wound,
To shun the torments of a public death[bd] 90
From senates once his slaves, a certain soldier,
With show of loyal pity, would have stanched
The gushing throat with his officious robe;
The dying Roman thrust him back, and said--
Some empire still in his expiring glance--
"It is too late--is this fidelity?"

_Abbot_. And what of this?

_Man_. I answer with the Roman--
"It is too late!"

_Abbot_. It never can be so,
To reconcile thyself with thy own soul,
And thy own soul with Heaven. Hast thou no hope? 100
'Tis strange--even those who do despair above,
Yet shape themselves some fantasy on earth,
To which frail twig they cling, like drowning men.

_Man_. Aye--father! I have had those early visions,
And noble aspirations in my youth,
To make my own the mind of other men,
The enlightener of nations; and to rise
I knew not whither--it might be to fall;
But fall, even as the mountain-cataract,
Which having leapt from its more dazzling height, 110
Even in the foaming strength of its abyss,
(Which casts up misty columns that become
Clouds raining from the re-ascended skies,)[157]
Lies low but mighty still.--But this is past,
My thoughts mistook themselves.

_Abbot_. And wherefore so?

_Man_.I could not tame my nature down; for he
Must serve who fain would sway; and soothe, and sue,
And watch all time, and pry into all place,
And be a living Lie, who would become
A mighty thing amongst the mean--and such 120
The mass are; I disdained to mingle with
A herd, though to be leader--and of wolves,
The lion is alone, and so am I.

_Abbot_. And why not live and act with other men?

_Man_. Because my nature was averse from life;
And yet not cruel; for I would not make,
But find a desolation. Like the Wind,
The red-hot breath of the most lone Simoom,[158]
Which dwells but in the desert, and sweeps o'er
The barren sands which bear no shrubs to blast, 130
And revels o'er their wild and arid waves,
And seeketh not, so that it is not sought,
But being met is deadly,--such hath been
The course of my existence; but there came
Things in my path which are no more.

_Abbot_. Alas!
I 'gin to fear that thou art past all aid
From me and from my calling; yet so young,
I still would----

_Man_. Look on me! there is an order
Of mortals on the earth, who do become
Old in their youth, and die ere middle age,[159] 140
Without the violence of warlike death;
Some perishing of pleasure--some of study--
Some worn with toil, some of mere weariness,--
Some of disease--and some insanity--
And some of withered, or of broken hearts;
For this last is a malady which slays
More than are numbered in the lists of Fate,
Taking all shapes, and bearing many names.
Look upon me! for even of all these things
Have I partaken; and of all these things, 150
One were enough; then wonder not that I
Am what I am, but that I ever was,
Or having been, that I am still on earth.

_Abbot_. Yet, hear me still--

_Man_. Old man! I do respect
Thine order, and revere thine years; I deem
Thy purpose pious, but it is in vain:
Think me not churlish; I would spare thyself,
Far more than me, in shunning at this time
All further colloquy--and so--farewell.
[Exit MANFRED.

_Abbot_. This should have been a noble creature: he 160
Hath all the energy which would have made
A goodly frame of glorious elements,
Had they been wisely mingled; as it is,
It is an awful chaos--Light and Darkness--
And mind and dust--and passions and pure thoughts
Mixed, and contending without end or order,--
All dormant or destructive. He will perish--
And yet he must not--I will try once more,
For such are worth redemption; and my duty
Is to dare all things for a righteous end. 170
I'll follow him--but cautiously, though surely.
[Exit ABBOT.

SCENE II.--_Another Chamber_.

MANFRED _and_ HERMAN.

_Her_. My lord, you bade me wait on you at sunset:
He sinks behind the mountain.

_Man_. Doth he so?
I will look on him.
[MANFRED _advances to the Window of the Hall_.
Glorious Orb! the idol[160]
Of early nature, and the vigorous race
Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons[161]
Of the embrace of Angels, with a sex
More beautiful than they, which did draw down
The erring Spirits who can ne'er return.--
Most glorious Orb! that wert a worship, ere
The mystery of thy making was revealed! 10
Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,
Which gladdened, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they poured[162]
Themselves in orisons! Thou material God!
And representative of the Unknown--
Who chose thee for his shadow! Thou chief Star!
Centre of many stars! which mak'st our earth
Endurable and temperest the hues
And hearts of all who walk within thy rays!
Sire of the seasons! Monarch of the climes, 20
And those who dwell in them! for near or far,
Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee
Even as our outward aspects;--thou dost rise,
And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well!
I ne'er shall see thee more. As my first glance
Of love and wonder was for thee, then take
My latest look: thou wilt not beam on one
To whom the gifts of life and warmth have been
Of a more fatal nature. He is gone--
I follow. [_Exit_ MANFRED.

SCENE III.--_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; 10
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 20
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 them, Herman.[be]

_Her_. Come, be friendly; 30
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,[163] 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; 40
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----[164]
Hush! who comes here?

_Enter the_ ABBOT.

_Abbot_. Where is your master?

_Her_. Yonder in the tower.

_Abbot_. I must speak with him.

_Manuel_. 'Tis impossible;
He is most private, and must not be thus 50
Intruded on.

_Abbot_. Upon myself I take
The forfeit of my fault, if fault there be--
But I must see him.

_Her_. Thou hast seen him once
his eve already.

_Abbot_. Herman! I command thee,[bf]
Knock, and apprize the Count of my approach.

_Her_. We dare not.

_Abbot_. Then it seems I must be herald
Of my own purpose.

_Manuel_. Reverend father, stop--
I pray you pause.

_Abbot_. Why so?

_Manuel_. But step this way,
And I will tell you further. [_Exeunt_.

SCENE IV.--_Interior of the Tower_.

MANFRED _alone_.

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains.--Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the Night[165]
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness,
I learned the language of another world.
I do remember me, that in my youth,
When I was wandering,--upon such a night
I stood within the Coliseum's wall,[166] 10
'Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome;
The trees which grew along the broken arches
Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars
Shone through the rents of ruin; from afar
The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber; and
More near from out the Cæsars' palace came
The owl's long cry, and, interruptedly,[167]
Of distant sentinels the fitful song
Begun and died upon the gentle wind.[168]
Some cypresses beyond the time-worn breach 20
Appeared to skirt the horizon, yet they stood
Within a bowshot. Where the Cæsars dwelt,
And dwell the tuneless birds of night, amidst
A grove which springs through levelled battlements,
And twines its roots with the imperial hearths,
Ivy usurps the laurel's place of growth;
But the gladiators' bloody Circus stands,
A noble wreck in ruinous perfection,
While Cæsar's chambers, and the Augustan halls,
Grovel on earth in indistinct decay.-- 30
And thou didst shine, thou rolling Moon, upon
All this, and cast a wide and tender light,
Which softened down the hoar austerity
Of rugged desolation, and filled up,
As 'twere anew, the gaps of centuries;
Leaving that beautiful which still was so,
And making that which was not--till the place
Became religion, and the heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the Great of old,--
The dead, but sceptred, Sovereigns, who still rule 40
Our spirits from their urns.
'Twas such a night!
'Tis strange that I recall it at this time;
But I have found our thoughts take wildest flight
Even at the moment when they should array
Themselves in pensive order.

_Enter the_ ABBOT.

_Abbot_. My good Lord!
I crave a second grace for this approach;
But yet let not my humble zeal offend
By its abruptness--all it hath of ill
Recoils on me; its good in the effect
May light upon your head--could I say _heart_-- 50
Could I touch _that_, with words or prayers, I should
Recall a noble spirit which hath wandered,
But is not yet all lost.

_Man_. Thou know'st me not;
My days are numbered, and my deeds recorded:
Retire, or 'twill be dangerous--Away!

_Abbot_. Thou dost not mean to menace me?

_Man_. Not I!
I simply tell thee peril is at hand,
And would preserve thee.

_Abbot_. What dost thou mean?

_Man_. Look there!
What dost thou see?

_Abbot_. Nothing.

_Man_. Look there, I say,
And steadfastly;--now tell me what thou seest? 60

_Abbot_. That which should shake me,--but I fear it not:
I see a dusk and awful figure rise,
Like an infernal god, from out the earth;
His face wrapt in a mantle, and his form
Robed as with angry clouds: he stands between
Thyself and me--but I do fear him not.

_Man_. Thou hast no cause--he shall not harm thee--but
His sight may shock thine old limbs into palsy.
I say to thee--Retire!

_Abbot_. And I reply--
Never--till I have battled with this fiend:-- 70
What doth he here?

_Man_. Why--aye--what doth he here?
I did not send for him,--he is unbidden.

_Abbot_. Alas! lost Mortal! what with guests like these
Hast thou to do? I tremble for thy sake:
Why doth he gaze on thee, and thou on him?
Ah! he unveils his aspect: on his brow
The thunder-scars are graven; from his eye[169]
Glares forth the immortality of Hell--
Avaunt!--

_Man_. Pronounce--what is thy mission?

_Spirit_. Come!

_Abbot_. What art thou, unknown being? answer!--speak! 80

_Spirit_. The genius of this mortal.--Come!'tis time.

_Man_. I am prepared for all things, but deny
The Power which summons me. Who sent thee here?

_Spirit_. Thou'lt know anon--Come! come!

_Man_. I have commanded
Things of an essence greater far than thine,
And striven with thy masters. Get thee hence!

_Spirit_. Mortal! thine hour is come--Away! I say.

_Man_. I knew, and know my hour is come, but not
To render up my soul to such as thee:
Away! I'll die as I have lived--alone. 90

_Spirit_. Then I must summon up my brethren.--Rise![bg]
[_Other Spirits rise._

_Abbot_. Avaunt! ye evil ones!--Avaunt! I say,--
Ye have no power where Piety hath power,
And I do charge ye in the name--

_Spirit_. Old man!
We know ourselves, our mission, and thine order;
Waste not thy holy words on idle uses,
It were in vain: this man is forfeited.
Once more--I summon him--Away! Away!

_Man_. I do defy ye,--though I feel my soul
Is ebbing from me, yet I do defy ye; 100
Nor will I hence, while I have earthly breath
To breathe my scorn upon ye--earthly strength
To wrestle, though with spirits; what ye take
Shall be ta'en limb by limb.

_Spirit_. Reluctant mortal!
Is this the Magian who would so pervade
The world invisible, and make himself
Almost our equal? Can it be that thou
Art thus in love with life? the very life
Which made thee wretched?

_Man_. Thou false fiend, thou liest!
My life is in its last hour,--_that_ I know, 110
Nor would redeem a moment of that hour;
I do not combat against Death, but thee
And thy surrounding angels; my past power
Was purchased by no compact with thy crew,
But by superior science--penance, daring,
And length of watching, strength of mind, and skill
In knowledge of our Fathers--when the earth
Saw men and spirits walking side by side,
And gave ye no supremacy: I stand
Upon my strength--I do defy--deny-- 120
Spurn back, and scorn ye!--

_Spirit_. But thy many crimes
Have made thee--

_Man_. What are they to such as thee?
Must crimes be punished but by other crimes,
And greater criminals?--Back to thy hell!
Thou hast no power upon me, _that_ I feel;
Thou never shalt possess me, _that_ I know:
What I have done is done; I bear within
A torture which could nothing gain from thine:
The Mind which is immortal makes itself
Requital for its good or evil thoughts,-- 130
Is its own origin of ill and end--
And its own place and time:[170] its innate sense,
When stripped of this mortality, derives
No colour from the fleeting things without,
But is absorbed in sufferance or in joy,
Born from the knowledge of its own desert.
_Thou_ didst not tempt me, and thou couldst not tempt me;
I have not been thy dupe, nor am thy prey--
But was my own destroyer, and will be
My own hereafter.--Back, ye baffled fiends! 140
The hand of Death is on me--but not yours!
[_The Demons disappear._

_Abbot_. Alas! how pale thou art--thy lips are white--
And thy breast heaves--and in thy gasping throat
The accents rattle: Give thy prayers to Heaven--
Pray--albeit but in thought,--but die not thus.

_Man_. 'Tis over--my dull eyes can fix thee not;
But all things swim around me, and the earth
Heaves as it were beneath me. Fare thee well--
Give me thy hand.

_Abbot_. Cold--cold--even to the heart--
But yet one prayer--Alas! how fares it with thee? 150

_Man_. Old man! 'tis not so difficult to die.[171]
[MANFRED _expires._

_Abbot_. He's gone--his soul hath ta'en its earthless flight;
Whither? I dread to think--but he is gone.[172]

FOOTNOTES:

[106] {86}[The MS. of _Manfred_, now in Mr. Murray's possession, is in Lord Byron's handwriting. A note is prefixed: "The scene of the drama is amongst the higher Alps, partly in the Castle of Manfred, and partly in the mountains." The date, March 18, 1817, is in John Murray's handwriting.]

[107] [So, too, Faust is discovered "in a high--vaulted narrow Gothic chamber."]

[108] [Compare _Faust,_ act i. sc. 1--

"Alas! I have explored
Philosophy, and Law, and Medicine,
And over deep Divinity have pored,
Studying with ardent and laborious zeal."

Anster's Faust, 1883, p. 88.]

[ap] {86}

_Eternal Agency!_
_Ye spirits of the immortal Universe!_--[MS. M.]

[aq] _Of inaccessible mountains are the haunts_.--[MS. M.]

[109] [_Faust_ contemplates the sign of the macrocosm, and makes use of the sign of the Spirit of the Earth. _Manfred's_ written charm may have been "Abraxas," which comprehended the Greek numerals 365, and expressed the all-pervading spirits of the Universe.]

[110] [The Prince of the Spirits is Arimanes, _vide post,_ act ii. sc. 4, line 1, _seq._]

[111] {87}[Compare _Childe Harold,_ Canto I. stanza lxxxiii. lines 8, 9.]

[ar] _Which is fit for my pavilion_.--[MS. M.]

[as] _Or makes its ice delay_.--[MS. M.]

[112] {89}[Compare "Creatures of clay, I receive you into mine empire."--_Vathek,_ 1887, p. 179.]

[at] {90}_The Mind which is my Spirit--the high Soul._--[MS. erased.]

[au] _Answer--or I will teach ye._--[MS. M.]

[113] [So the MS., in which the word "say" clearly forms part of the _Spirit's_ speech.]

[114] {91}[Compare "Stanzas for Music," i. 3, _Poetical Works,_ 1900, iii 435.]

[115] [It is evident that the female figure is not that of Astarte, but of the subject of the "Incantation."]

[116] [The italics are not indicated in the MS.]

[117] N.B.--Here follows the "Incantation," which being already transcribed and (I suppose) published I do not transcribe again at present, because you can insert it in MS. here--as it belongs to this place: with its conclusion the 1st Scene closes.

[The "Incantation" was first published in "_The Prisoner of Chillon and Other Poems_. London: Printed for John Murray, Albemarle Street, 1816." Immediately below the title is a note: "The following Poem was a Chorus in an unpublished Witch Drama, which was begun some years ago."]

[118] {92}[Manfred was done into Italian by a translator "who was unable to find in the dictionaries ... any other signification of the 'wisp' of this line than 'a bundle of straw.'" Byron offered him two hundred francs if he would destroy the MS., and engage to withhold his hand from all past or future poems. He at first refused; but, finding that the alternative was to be a horsewhipping, accepted the money, and signed the agreement.--_Life_, p. 375, note.]

[av] {93}_I do adjure thee to this spell._--[MS. M.]

[119] {94}[Compare--

ὦ δῖος αἰθὴρ, κ.τ.λ.
[Greek: ô~) di~os ai)thê\r, k.t.l.]

Æschylus, _Prometheus Vinctus,_ lines 88-91.]

[120] {95}[Compare Hamlet's speech to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (_Hamlet,_ act ii. sc. 2, lines 286, _sq._).]

[121] [The germs of this and of several other passages in _Manfred_ may be found, as Lord Byron stated, in the Journal of his Swiss tour, which he transmitted to his sister. "Sept. 19, 1816.--Arrived at a lake in the very nipple of the bosom of the Mountain; left our quadrupeds with a Shepherd, and ascended further; came to some snow in patches, upon which my forehead's perspiration fell like rain, making the same dints as in a sieve; the chill of the wind and the snow turned me giddy, but I scrambled on and upwards. Hobhouse went to the highest _pinnacle._ ... The whole of the Mountain superb. A Shepherd on a very steep and high cliff playing upon his _pipe_; very different from _Arcadia,_ (where I saw the pastors with a long Musquet instead of a Crook, and pistols in their Girdles).... The music of the Cows' bells (for their wealth, like the Patriarchs', is cattle) in the pastures, (which reach to a height far above any mountains in Britain), and the Shepherds' shouting to us from crag to crag, and playing on their reeds where the steeps appeared almost inaccessible, with the surrounding scenery, realized all that I have ever heard or imagined of a pastoral existence:--much more so than Greece or Asia Minor, for there we are a little too much of the sabre and musquet order; and if there is a Crook in one hand, you are sure to see a gun in the other:--but this was pure and unmixed--solitary, savage, and patriarchal.... As we went, they played the 'Ranz des Vaches' and other airs, by way of farewell. I have lately repeopled my mind with Nature" (_Letters_, 1899, in. 354, 355).]

[122] {96}[Compare--

"Like an unbodied joy, whose race is just begun."

_To a Skylark_, by P. B. Shelley, stanza iii. line 5.]

[123] ["Passed _whole woods of withered pines, all withered_; trunks stripped and barkless, branches lifeless; done by a _single winter_,--their appearance reminded me of me and my family" (_Letters_, 1899, iii. 360).]

[124] {97}["Ascended the Wengen mountain.... Heard the Avalanches falling every five minutes nearly--as if God was pelting the Devil down from Heaven with snow balls" (_Letters_, 1899, in. 359).]

[aw] _Like foam from the round ocean of old Hell_.--[MS. M.]

[125] ["The clouds rose from the opposite valley, curling up perpendicular precipices like the foam of the Ocean of Hell, during a Spring-tide--it was white, and sulphury, and immeasurably deep in appearance. The side we ascended was (of course) not of so precipitous a nature; but on arriving at the summit, we looked down the other side upon a boiling sea of cloud, dashing against the crags on which we stood (these crags on one side quite perpendicular) ... In passing the masses of snow, I made a snowball and pelted Hobhouse with it" (_ibid_, pp. 359. 360).]

[126] [The fall of the Rossberg took place September 2, 1806. "A huge mass of conglomerate rock, 1000 feet broad and 100 feet thick, detached itself from the face of the mountain (Rossberg or Rufiberg, near Goldau, south of Lake Zug), and slipped down into the valley below, overwhelming the villages of Goldau, Busingen, and Rothen, and part of Lowertz. More than four hundred and fifty human beings perished, and whole herds of cattle were swept away. Five minutes sufficed to complete the work of destruction. The inhabitants were first roused by a loud and grating sound like thunder ... and beheld the valleys shrouded in a cloud of dust; when it had cleared away they found the face of nature changed."--_Handbook of Switzerland,_ Part 1. pp 58, 59.]

[127] {99}[The critics of the day either affected to ignore or severely censured (e.g. writers in the _Critical_, _European_, and _Gentleman's_ Magazines) the allusions to an incestuous passion between Manfred and Astarte. Shelley, in a letter to Mrs. Gisborne, November 16, 1819, commenting on Calderon's _Los Cabellos de Absalon,_ discusses the question from an ethical as well as critical point of view: "The incest scene between Amon and Tamar is perfectly tremendous. Well may Calderon say, in the person of the former--

Si sangre sin fuego hiere
Qua fara sangre con fuego.'

Incest is, like many other incorrect things, a very poetical circumstance. It may be the defiance of everything for the sake of another which clothes itself in the glory of the highest heroism, or it may be that cynical rage which, confounding the good and the bad in existing opinions, breaks through them for the purpose of rioting in selfishness and antipathy."--_Works of P. B. Shelley,_ 1880, iv. 142.]

[ax] {100} ----_and some insaner sin_.--[MS. erased.]

[128] [Compare _Childe Harold,_ Canto III. stanza v. lines 1, 2.]

[129] {102}This iris is formed by the rays of the sun over the lower part of the Alpine torrents; it is exactly like a rainbow come down to pay a visit, and so close that you may walk into it: this effect lasts till noon. ["Before ascending the mountain, went to the torrent (7 in the morning) again; the Sun upon it forming a _rainbow_ of the lower part of all colours, but principally purple and gold; the bow moving as you move; I never saw anything like this; it is only in the Sunshine" (_Letters_, 1899, iii, 359).]

[130] ["Arrived at the foot of the Mountain (the Yung frau, i.e. the Maiden); Glaciers; torrents; one of these torrents _nine hundred feet_ in height of visible descent ... heard an Avalanche fall, like thunder; saw Glacier--enormous. Storm came on, thunder, lightning, hail; all in perfection, and beautiful.... The torrent is in shape curving over the rock, like the _tail_ of a white horse streaming in the wind, such as it might be conceived would be that of the '_pale_ horse' on which _Death_ is mounted in the Apocalypse. It is neither mist nor water, but a something between both; it's immense height ... gives it a wave, a curve, a spreading here, a condensation there, wonderful and indescribable" (ibid., pp. 357, 358).]

[ay] {103}_Wherein seems glassed_----.--[MS. of extract, February 15, 1817.]

[131] {104}[Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto III. stanza lxxii. lines 2, 3, note 2.]

[132] [Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto IV. stanza clxxxiv. line 3, note 2.]

[133] [Compare--

"The moving moon went up the sky."

_The Ancient Mariner_, Part IV. line 263.

Compare, too--

"The climbing moon."

Act iii. sc. 3, line 40.]

[134] {105}[Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanzas v.-xi.]

[135] The philosopher Jamblicus. The story of the raising of Eros and Anteros may be found in his life by Eunapius. It is well told. ["It is reported of him," says Eunapius, "that while he and his scholars were bathing in the hot baths of Gadara, in Syria, a dispute arising concerning the baths, he, smiling, ordered his disciples to ask the inhabitants by what names the two lesser springs, that were fairer than the rest, were called. To which the inhabitants replied, that 'the one was called Love, and the other Love's Contrary, but for what reason they knew not.' Upon which Iamblichus, who chanced to be sitting on the fountain's edge where the stream flowed out, put his hand on the water, and, having uttered a few words, called up from the depths of the fountain a fair-skinned lad, not over-tall, whose golden locks fell in sunny curls over his breast and back, so that he looked like one fresh from the bath; and then, going to the other spring, and doing as he had done before, called up another Amoretto like the first, save that his long-flowing locks now seemed black, now shot with sunny gleams. Whereupon both the Amoretti nestled and clung round Iamblichus as if they had been his own children ... after this his disciples asked him no more questions."--Eunapii Sardiani _Vitæ Philosophorum et Sophistarum_ (28, 29), _Philostratorum_, etc., _Opera_, Paris, 1829, p. 459, lines 20-50.]

[136] {107}[There may be some allusion here to "the squall off Meillerie" on the Lake of Geneva (see Letter to Murray, June 27, 1816, _Letters,_ 1899, iii. 333).]

[137] [Compare the concluding sentence of the Journal in Switzerland (_ibid.,_ p. 364).]

[az] _And live--and live for ever_.--[Specimen sheet.]

[ba] {108}_As from a bath_--.--[MS, erased.]

[138] The story of Pausanias, king of Sparta, (who commanded the Greeks at the battle of Platea, and afterwards perished for an attempt to betray the Lacedæmonians), and Cleonice, is told in Plutarch's life of Cimon; and in the Laconics of Pausanias the sophist in his description of Greece.

[The following is the passage from Plutarch: "It is related that when Pausanias was at Byzantium, he cast his eyes upon a young virgin named Cleonice, of a noble family there, and insisted on having her for a mistress. The parents, intimidated by his power, were under the hard necessity of giving up their daughter. The young woman begged that the light might be taken out of his apartment, that she might go to his bed in secresy and silence. When she entered he was asleep, and she unfortunately stumbled upon the candlestick, and threw it down. The noise waked him suddenly, and he, in his confusion, thinking it was an enemy coming to assassinate him, unsheathed a dagger that lay by him, and plunged it into the virgin's heart. After this he could never rest. Her image appeared to him every night, and with a menacing tone repeated this heroic verse--

'Go to the fate which pride and lust prepare!'

The allies, highly incensed at this infamous action, joined Cimon to besiege him in Byzantium. But he found means to escape thence; and, as he was still haunted by the spectre, he is said to have applied to a temple at Heraclea, where the _manes_ of the dead were consulted. There he invoked the spirit of Cleonice, and entreated her pardon. She appeared, and told him 'he would soon be delivered from all his troubles, after his return to Sparta:' in which, it seems, his death was enigmatically foretold." "Thus," adds the translator in a note, "we find that it was a custom in the pagan as well as in the Hebrew theology to conjure up the spirits of the dead, and that the witch of Endor was not the only witch in the world."--Langhorne's _Plutarch_, 1838, p. 339.

The same story is told in the _Periegesis Græcæ_, lib. iii. cap. xvii., but Pausanias adds, "This was the deed from the guilt of which Pausanias could never fly, though he employed all-various purifications, received the deprecations of Jupiter Phyxius, and went to Phigalea to the Arcadian evocators of souls."--_Descr. of Greece_ (translated by T. Taylor), 1794, i. 304, 305.]

[139] {109}[Compare--

"But I have seen the soaring Jungfrau rear
Her never-trodden snow."

_Childe Harold_, Canto IV. stanza lxxiii. lines 6, 7.

Byron did not know, or ignored, the fact that the Jungfrau was first ascended in 1811, by the brothers Meyer, of Aarau.]

[140] {110}[Compare--

"And who commanded (and the silence came)
Here let the billows stiffen and have rest?
* * * * *
Motionless torrents! silent cataracts."

_Hymn before Sunrise, etc.,_ by S.T. Coleridge, lines 47, 48, 53.

"Arrived at the Grindenwald; dined, mounted again, and rode to the higher Glacier--twilight, but distinct--very fine Glacier, like _a frozen hurricane_" (Letters, 1899, iii. 360).]

[141] [The idea of the Witches' Festival may have been derived from the Walpurgisnacht on the Brocken.]

[142] [Compare--

"Freedom ne'er shall want an heir;
* * * * *
When once more her hosts assemble,
Tyrants shall believe and tremble--
Smile they at this idle threat?
Crimson tears will follow yet."

_Ode from the French,_ v. 8, 11-14. _Poetical Works,_ 1900, iii. 435.

Compare, too, _Napoleon's Farewell_, stanza 3, ibid., p. 428. The "Voice" prophesies that St. Helena will prove a second Elba, and that Napoleon will "live to fight another day."]

[143] {111}[Byron may have had in his mind Thomas Lord Cochrane (1775-1860), "who had done brilliant service in his successive commands--the _Speedy_, _Pallas_, _Impérieuse_, and the flotilla of fire-ships at Basque Roads in 1809." In his Diary, March 10, 1814, he speaks of him as "the stock-jobbing hoaxer" (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 396, note 1).]

[144] {112}[Arimanes, the Aherman of _Vathek_, the Arimanius of Greek and Latin writers, is the Ahriman (or Angra Mainyu, "who is all death," the spirit of evil, the counter-creator) of the _Zend-Avesta_, "Fargard," i. 5 (translated by James Darmesteter, 1895, p. 4). Byron may have got the form Arimanius (_vide_ Steph., _Thesaurus_) from D'Herbelot, and changed it to Arimanes.]

[145] [The "formidable Eblis" sat on a globe of fire--"in his hand ... he swayed the iron sceptre that causes ... all the powers of the abyss to tremble."--_Vathek_, by William Beckford, 1887, p. 178.]

[bb] {112}_The comets herald through the burning skies_.--[Alternative reading in MS.]

[146] {114}[Compare--

"Sorrow is Knowledge."