If that I did not know philosophy To be of all our vanities the motliest, The merest word that ever fool'd the ear 66 From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem Re-enter HERMAN. My lord, the abbot of St. Maurice craves To greet your presence. Enter the ABBOT OF ST. MAURICE. ABBOT. Peace be with Count Manfred! MAN. Thanks, holy father! welcome to these walls; Thy presence honours them, and blesseth those Who dwell within them. Аввот. Would it were so, Count! But I would fain confer with thee alone. MAN. Herman, retire. What would my reverend guest ? ABBOT. Thus, without prelude:-Age and zeal, my office, And good intent, must plead my privilege; Our near, though not acquainted neighbourhood, And busy with thy name; a noble name For centuries; may he who bears it now Transmit it unimpair'd! ΜΑΝ. Proceed,-I listen. ABBOT. "Tis said thou holdest converse with the things Which are forbidden to the search of man; That with the dwellers of the dark abodes, Which walk the valley of the shade of death, Is as an anchorite's, were it but holy. MAN. And what are they who do avouch these things? ABBOT. My pious brethren-the scared peasantry Even thy own vassals-who do look on thee With most unquiet eyes. Thy life's in peril. MAN. Take it. ABBOT. I come to save, and not destroy I would not pry into thy secret soul; But if these things be sooth, there still is time For penitence and pity: reconcile thee With the true church, and through the church to heaven. I may have been, or am, doth rest between Against your ordinances? prove and punish! ABBOT. My son! I did not speak of punishment, The choice of such remains-and for the last, Have given me power to smooth the path from sin MAN. Old man! there is no power in holy men, Nor charm in prayer-nor purifying form Which is remorse without the fear of hell, But all in all sufficient to itself Would make a hell of heaven-can exorcise From out the unbounded spirit, the quick sense Can deal that justice on the self-condemn'd He deals on his own soul. Аввот. All this is well; For this will pass away, and be succeeded The sense of its necessity.-Say on And all our church can teach thee shall be taught; And all we can absolve thee, shall be pardon'd. MAN. When Rome's sixth Emperor was near his last, The victim of a self-inflicted wound, To shun the torments of a public death From senates once his slaves, a certain soldier, The dying Roman thrust him back and said— "It is too late-is this fidelity ?" ABBOT. And what of this? ΜΑΝ. "It is too late!" Аввот. I answer with the Roman It never can be so, To reconcile thyself with thy own soul, And thy own soul with heaven. Hast thou no hope? 'Tis strange-even those who do despair above, To make my own the mind of other men, The enlightener of nations; and to rise I knew not whither-it might be to fall; But fall, even as the mountain-cataract, Which having leapt from its more dazzling height, |