Lord Byron (1788–1824). Manfred. The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
Act I |
Scene I |
MANFRED alone.—Scene, a Gothic Gallery. Time, Midnight. | |
Manfred THE LAMP must be replenish’d, but even then | |
It will not burn so long as I must watch. | |
My slumbers—if I slumber—are not sleep, | |
But a continuance of enduring thought, | 5 |
Which then I can resist not: in my heart | |
There is a vigil, and these eyes but close | |
To look within; and yet I live, and bear | |
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 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 itself— | |
But 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, | 25 |
And feel the curse to have no natural fear, | |
Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes or wishes, | |
Or lurking love of something on the earth. | |
Now to my task.— | |
Mysterious Agency! | 30 |
Ye spirits of the unbounded Universe, | |
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, | 35 |
And earth’s and ocean’s caves familiar things— | |
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, | 40 |
Which makes you tremble; by the claims of him | |
Who is undying,—Rise! appear!—Appear! [A pause. | |
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, | 45 |
Which had its birthplace in a star condemn’d, | |
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, | 50 |
I do compel ye to my will. Appear! [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 | 55 |
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; | 60 |
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. | 65 |
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 | 70 |
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 | 75 |
And quiver to his cavern’d base— | |
And what with me wouldst 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, | 80 |
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; | 85 |
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 | 90 |
Lies pillow’d on fire, | |
And the lakes of bitumen | |
Rise boilingly higher; | |
Where the roots of the Andes | |
Strike deep in the earth, | 95 |
As their summits to heaven | |
Shoot soaringly forth; | |
I have quitted my birthplace, | |
Thy bidding to bide— | |
Thy spell hath subdued me, | 100 |
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; | 105 |
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, | 110 |
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; | 115 |
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, | 120 |
The menace of the universe; | |
Still rolling on with innate force, | |
Without a sphere, without a course, | |
A bright deformity on high, | |
The monster of the upper sky! | 125 |
And thou! beneath its influence born— | |
Thou worm! whom I obey and scorn— | |
Forced by a power (which is not thine, | |
And lent thee but to make thee mine) | |
For this brief moment to descend, | 130 |
Where these weak spirits round thee bend | |
And parley with a thing like thee— | |
What 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! | 135 |
Before thee at thy quest their spirits are— | |
What wouldst thou with us, son of mortals—say? | |
Man. Forgetfulness— | |
First Spirit. Of what—of whom—and why? | |
Man. Of that which is within me; read it there— | 140 |
Ye know it, and I cannot utter it. | |
Spirit. We can but give thee that which we possess: | |
Ask of us subjects, sovereignty, the power | |
O’er earth, the whole, or portion, or a sign | |
Which shall control the elements, whereof | 145 |
We are the dominators,—each and all, | |
These shall be thine. | |
Man. Oblivion, self—oblivion— | |
Can ye not wring from out the hidden realms | |
Ye offer so profusely what I ask? | 150 |
Spirit. It is not in our essence, in our skill; | |
But—thou mayst die. | |
Man. Will death bestow it on me? | |
Spirit. We are immortal, and do not forget; | |
We are eternal; and to us the past | 155 |
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, | |
The lightning of my being, is as bright, | 160 |
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 | |
Is even in thine own words. | 165 |
Man. Why say ye so? | |
Spirit. If, as thou say’st, thine essence be as ours, | |
We have replied in telling thee, the thing | |
Mortals call death hath nought to do with us. | |
Man. I then have call’d ye from your realms in vain; | 170 |
Ye cannot, or ye will not, aid me. | |
Spirit. Say; | |
What we possess we offer; it is thine: | |
Bethink ere thou dismiss us, ask again— | |
Kingdom, and sway, and strength, and length of days— | 175 |
Man. Accursèd! What have I to do with days? | |
They are too long already.—Hence—begone! | |
Spirit. Yet pause: being here, our will would do thee service; | |
Bethink thee, is there then no other gift | |
Which ye can make not worthless in thine eyes? | 180 |
Man. No, none: yet stay—one moment, ere we part— | |
I would behold ye face to face. I hear | |
Your voices, sweet and melancholy sounds, | |
As music on the waters; and I see | |
The steady aspect of a clear large star; | 185 |
But nothing more. Approach me as ye are, | |
Or one, or all, in your accustom’d forms. | |
Spirit. We have no forms, beyond the elements | |
Of which we are the mind and principle: | |
But choose a form—in that we will appear. | 190 |
Man. I have no choice; there is no form on earth | |
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). Behold! | 195 |
Man. Oh God! if it be thus, and thou | |
Art not a madness and a mockery, | |
I yet might be most happy. I will clasp thee, | |
And we again will be— [The figure vanishes. | |
My heart is crush’d! [MANFRED falls senseless. | 200 |
(A Voice is heard in the Incantation which follows.) | |
When the moon is on the wave, | |
And the glow—worm in the grass, | |
And the meteor on the grave, | |
And the wisp on the morass; | 205 |
When the falling stars are shooting, | |
And the answer’d owls are hooting, | |
And the silent leaves are still | |
In the shadow of the hill, | |
Shall my soul be upon thine, | 210 |
With a power and with a sign. | |
Though thy slumber may be deep, | |
Yet thy spirit shall not sleep; | |
There are shades which will not vanish, | |
There are thoughts thou canst not banish; | 215 |
By a power to thee unknown, | |
Thou canst never be alone; | |
Thou art wrapt as with a shroud, | |
Thou art gather’d in a cloud; | |
And for ever shalt thou dwell | 220 |
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; | 225 |
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 | 230 |
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; | 235 |
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, | 240 |
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; | 245 |
From thy own smile I snatch’d the snake, | |
For there it coil’d as in a brake; | |
From thy own lip I drew the charm | |
Which gave all these their chiefest harm; | |
In proving every poison known, | 250 |
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; | 255 |
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 | 260 |
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; | 265 |
Though thy death shall still seem near | |
To thy wish, but as a fear; | |
Lo! the spell now works around thee, | |
And the clankless chain hath bound thee; | |
O’er thy heart and brain together | 270 |
Hath the word been pass’d—now wither! |
No comments:
Post a Comment