In short, Byron's description of the woman, whom he had 'destroyed,' resembles Augusta Leigh about as much as a mountain resembles a haystack. How closely Manfred's description resembles Mary Chaworth will be seen presently. Augusta Leigh had told Byron that, in consequence of his conduct, Mary Chaworth was out of her mind. Manfred says that if he had never lived, that which he loved had still been living: '... Had I never loved, That which I love would still be beautiful, Happy, and giving happiness. What is she? What is she now? _A sufferer for my sins_-- _A thing I dare not think upon_--or nothing.' When Nemesis asks Manfred whom he would 'uncharnel,' he replies: 'One without a tomb-- Call up Astarte.' The name, of course, suggests a star. As we have seen, Byron often employed that metaphor in allusion to Mary Chaworth. When the phantom of Astarte rises, Manfred exclaims: 'Can this be death? there's bloom upon her cheek; But now I see it is no living hue, But a strange hectic.' He is afraid to look upon her; he cannot speak to her, and implores Nemesis to intercede: 'Bid her speak-- Forgive me, or condemn me.' Nemesis tells him that she has no authority over Astarte: 'She is not of our order, but belongs To the other powers.'[53] The fine appeal of Manfred cannot have been addressed by Byron to his sister: 'Hear me, hear me-- Astarte! my belovéd! speak to me: I have so much endured--so much endure-- Look on me! the grave hath not changed thee more Than I am changed for thee. Thou lovedst me Too much, as I loved thee: we were not made To torture thus each other--though it were The deadliest sin to love as we have loved. Say that thou loath'st me not--that I do bear This punishment for both--that thou wilt be One of the blesséd--and that I shall die. * * * * * 'I cannot rest. I know not what I ask, nor what I seek: _I feel but what thou art_, and what I am; And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music[54]--speak to me! * * * * * Speak to me! I have wandered o'er the earth, And never found thy likeness.' When Manfred implores Astarte to forgive him, she is silent. It is not a matter for forgiveness. He entreats her to speak to him, so that he may once more hear that sweet voice, even though it be for the last time. The silence is broken by the word 'Farewell!' Manfred, whose doom is sealed, cries in agony: