70
MANFRED.
ACT III.
'Tis strange that I recall it at this time;
But I have found our thoughts take wildest flight
Even at the moment when they should array
Themselves in pensive order.
But I have found our thoughts take wildest flight
Even at the moment when they should array
Themselves in pensive order.
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—
Could I touch that, with words or prayers, I should
Recall a noble spirit which hath wandered;
But is not yet all lost.
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—
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!
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.
I simply tell thee peril is at hand,
And would preserve thee.
Abbot.What dost mean?
