_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 wouldst 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.
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,
And his black wing flits
O'er the milk-white bone;