ACT II. SCENE I. A Cottage amongst the Bernese Alps. MANFRED and the CHAMOIS HUNTER. C. HUN. No, no-yet pause-thou must not yet go forth: Thy mind and body are alike unfit To trust each other, for some hours, at least; MAN. It imports not: I do know My route full well, and need no further guidance. One of the many chiefs, whose castled crags Which step from out our mountains to their doors, I know from childhood-which of these is thine? MAN. No matter. C. HUN. Well, sir, pardon me the question, And be of better cheer. Come, taste my wine; "Tis of an ancient vintage; many a day "Thas 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. MAN. I say 'tis blood-my blood! the pure warm stream Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours Colouring the clouds, that shut me out from heaven, C. HUN. Man of strange words, and some half-maddening sin, Which makes thee people vacancy, whate'er MAN. Patience and patience! Hence—that word was made "or brutes of burthen, not for birds of prey; Preach it to mortals of a dust like thine, am not of thine order, C. HUN. Thanks to heaven! would not be of thine for the free fame Of William Tell; but whatsoe'er thine ill, It must be borne, and these wild starts are useless. C. HUN. This is convulsion, and no healthful life. With the fierce thirst of death-and still unslaked! MAN. Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? Barren and cold, on which the wild waves break, C. HUN. Alas! he's mad-but yet I must not leave MAN. I would I were-for then the things I see Would be but a distemper'd dream. C. HUN. What is it That thou dost see, or think thou look'st upon ? MAN. Myself, and thee-a peasant of the AlpsThy humble virtues, hospitable home, And spirit patient, pious, proud and free; Thy self-respect, grafted on innocent thoughts; It matters not—my soul was scorch'd already! for mine? MAN. No, friend! I would not wrong thee, nor ex change My lot with living being: I can bear— However wretchedly, 'tis still to bear— In life what others could not brook to dream, But perish in their slumber. C. HUN. And with this This cautious feeling for another's pain, Canst thou be black with evil?-say not so. Can one of gentle thoughts have wreak'd revenge My injuries came down on those who loved me- But my embrace was fatal. C. HUN. Heaven give thee rest! And penitence restore thee to thyself; MAN. I need them not, But can endure thy pity. I depart 'Tis time-farewell!-Here's gold, and thanks for thee- No words-it is thy due.-Follow me not- [Exit MANFRED. SCENE II. A lower Valley in the Alps. A Cataract. Enter MANFred. It is not noon-the sunbow's rays (1) still arch |