Manfred (With Byron's Biography). Lord Byron. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lord Byron
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of form, but mind and habits; Count Sigismund was proud, but gay and free,— A warrior and a reveller; he dwelt not20 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.

      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.

      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 thus50 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.

      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.

      Manfred alone.

      The stars are forth, the moon above the tops

       Of the snow-shining mountains.—Beautiful!

      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.

      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