151 [The "revised version" makes no further mention of the "key and casket;" but in the first draft (vide infra, p. 122) they were used by Manfred in calling up Astaroth (Selections from Byron, New York, 1900, p. 370).]

152 [Byron may have had in his mind a sentence in a letter of C. Cassius to Cicero (Epist., xv. 19), in which he says, "It is difficult to persuade men that goodness is desirable for its own sake (τὸ καλὸν δἰ αὐτὸ αἱρετὸν); and yet it is true, and may be proved, that pleasure and calm are won by virtue, justice, in a word by goodness (τῷ καλῷ)."]

153 St. Maurice is in the Rhone valley, some sixteen miles from Villeneuve. The abbey (now occupied by Augustinian monks) was founded in the fourth century, and endowed by Sigismund, King of Burgundy.

154 [Thus far the text stands as originally written. The rest of the scene as given in the first MS. is as follows:—

Abbot. Then, hear and tremble! For the headstrong wretch
Who in the mail of innate hardihood
Would shield himself, and battle for his sins,
There is the stake on earth—and beyond earth
Eternal—

Man. Charity, most reverend father,
Becomes thy lips so much more than this menace,
That I would call thee back to it: but say,
What would'st thou with me?

Abbot. It may be there are
Things that would shake thee—but I keep them back,
And give thee till to-morrow to repent.10
Then if thou dost not all devote thyself
To penance, and with gift of all thy lands
To the Monastery——

Man. I understand thee,—well!

Abbot. Expect no mercy; I have warned thee.

Man. (opening the casket). Stop—
There is a gift for thee within this casket.
Manfred opens the casket, strikes a light, and burns some incense.
Ho! Ashtaroth!

The Demon Ashtaroth appears, singing as follows:—

The raven sits
On the Raven-stone,[A]
And his black wing flits
O'er the milk—white bone;20
To and fro, as the night—winds blow,
The carcass of the assassin swings;
And there alone, on the Raven-stone,
The raven flaps his dusky wings.

The fetters creak—and his ebon beak
Croaks to the close of the hollow sound;
And this is the tune, by the light of the Moon,
To which the Witches dance their round—
Merrily—merrily—cheerily—cheerily—
Merrily—merrily—speeds the ball:30
The dead in their shrouds, and the Demons in clouds,
Flock to the Witches' Carnival.

Abbot. I fear thee not—hence—hence—
Avaunt thee, evil One!—help, ho! without there!

Man. Convey this man to the Shreckhorn—to its peak—
To its extremest peak—watch with him there
From now till sunrise; let him gaze, and know
He ne'er again will be so near to Heaven.
But harm him not; and, when the morrow breaks,
Set him down safe in his cell—away with him!40

Ash. Had I not better bring his brethren too,
Convent and all, to bear him company?

Man. No, this will serve for the present. Take him up.

Ash. Come, Friar! now an exorcism or two,
And we shall fly the lighter.