MAN. (not perceiving the other.) To be thusGray-hair'd with anguish, like these blasted pines, Wrecks of a single winter, barkless, branchless, A blighted trunk upon a cursed root, Which but supplies a feeling to decay

And to be thus, eternally but thus,

Having been otherwise! Now furrow'd o'er
With wrinkles, plough'd by moments, not by years;
And hours-all tortured into ages-hours

Which I outlive!-Ye toppling crags of ice!
Ye avalanches, whom a breath draws down
In mountainous o'erwhelming, come and crush me!
I hear ye momently above, beneath,

Crash with a frequent confiict; but ye pass,
And only fall on things which still would live ;
On the young flourishing forest, or the hut

And hamlet of the harmless villager.

C. HUN. The mists begin to rise from up the valley; I'll warn him to descend, or he may chance To lose at once his way and life together.

MAN. The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury, Like foam from the roused ocean of deep Hell, Whose every wave breaks on a living shore, Heap'd with the damn'd like pebbles.—I am giddy. C. HUN. I must approach him cautiously; if near, A sudden step will startle him, and he

MAN.

Mountains have fallen,

Leaving a gap in the clouds, and with the shock
Rocking their Alpine brethren; filling up

The ripe green valleys with destruction's splinters;
Damming the rivers with a sudden dash,
Which crush'd the waters into mist, and made
Their fountains find another channel-thus,
Thus, in its old age, did Mount Rosenberg-
Why stood I not beneath it?

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! 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—

Ye were not meant for me-Earth! take these atoms, (As MANFRED is in the 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 notI am all feebleness-the mountains whirl

Spinning around me-I grow blind-What art thou

C. HUN. I'll answer that anon.-Away with meThe clouds grow thicker--there--- now lean on me-Place your foot here-here, take this staff, and cling A moment to that shrub-now give me your hand, And hold fast by my girdle--softly—wellThe Chalet will be gain'd within an hourCome on, we'll quickly find a surer footing, And something like a pathway, which the torrent Hath wash'd since winter.-Come, 'tis bravely doneYou should have been a hunter.-Follow me.

(As they descend the rocks with difficulty,

the scene closes.)

END OF ACT THE FIRST.

MAN.

Mountains have fallen,

Leaving a gap in the clouds, and with the shock
Rocking their Alpine brethren; filling up

The ripe green valleys with destruction's splinters;
Damming the rivers with a sudden dash,
Which crush'd the waters into mist, and made
Their fountains find another channel-thus,
Thus, in its old age, did Mount Rosenberg-
Why stood I not beneath it?

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! 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—

Ye were not meant for me-Earth! take these atoms, (As MANFRED is in the 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

Spinning around me-I grow blind-What art thou

C. HUN. I'll answer that anon.-Away with me— The clouds grow thicker--there--- now lean on me--Place your foot here—here, take this staff, and cling A moment to that shrub-now give me your hand, And hold fast by my girdle--softly—well— The Chalet will be gain'd within an hourCome on, we'll quickly find a surer footing, And something like a pathway, which the torrent Hath wash'd since winter.-Come, 'tis bravely doneYou should have been a hunter.-Follow me.

(As they descend the rocks with difficulty,

the scene closes.)

END OF ACT THE FIRST.