Mantred Farewell ye opening heavens' Look not upon me thus reproachfully. P 309 I will approach him nearer. Man. (not perceiving the other). To be thus- Having been otherwise! Now furrow'd o'er With wrinkles, plough'd by moments, not by years In mountainous o'erwhelming, come and crush me! Crash with a frequent corflict; but ye pass, C. Hun. The mists begin to rise from up the valley; To lose at once his way and life together. Man. The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds Whose every wave breaks on a living shore, Heap'd with the damn'd like pebbles.-I am giddy. Seems tottering already. Man. Mountains have fallen, The ripe green valleys with destruction's splinters Which crush'd the waters into mist, and made 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! 309 Man. (not hearing him). Such would have been for me a fitting tomb; My bones had then been quiet in their depth; They had not then been strewn upon the rocks For the wind's pastime-as thus-thus they shall be In this one plunge.-Farewell, ye opening heavens! Look not upon me thus reproachfully You were not meant for me-Earth! take these atoms! (As MANFRED is in act to spring from the cliff, the CHAMOIS HUNTER seizes and retains him with a sudden grasp.) C. Hun. Hold, madman!-though aweary of thy life, Stain not our pure vales with thy guilty blood Away with me-I will not quit my hold. Man. I am most sick at heart-nay, grasp me not- I am all feebleness-the mountains whirl (As they descend the rocks with difficulty the scene closes.) ACT II. SCENE I. A Cottage amongst the Bernese Alps. C. Hun. No, no-yet pause-thou must not yet go forth. To trust each other, for some hours, at least; When thou art better, I will be thy guide- Man. It imports not: I do know My route full well, and need no further guidance. C. Hun. Thy garb and gait bespeak thee of high lineageOne of the many chiefs, whose castled crags Look o'er the lower valleys-which of these May call thee lord? I only know their portals; My way of life leads me but rarely down To bask by the huge hearths of those old halls, Which step from out our mountains to their doors, C. Hun. Well, sir, pardon me the question, "T has thaw'd my veins among our glaciers, now Let it do thus for thine-Come, pledge me fairly. Man. Away, away! there's blood upon the brim! Will it then never-never sink in the earth? C. Hun. What dost thou mean? thy senses wander from thee Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours When we were in our youth, and had one heart, And loved each other as we should not love, And this was shed: but still it rises up, Colouring the clouds, that shut me out from heaven, |