Byron wrote of Manfred that he is “… a kind of magician, who is tormented by a species of remorse, the cause of which is left half unexplained.” It will perhaps be agreed that after much scholarship the cause remains in fact somewhat more than half unexplained, unless all is referred to Byron's anguish over the relationship with Augusta Leigh.With characteristic impatience the poet repudiated the guesses of his contemporaries as to the sources of Manfred, which, he said, he wrote “for the sake of introducing the Alpine scenery in description.” To Wilson's suggestion in the Edinburgh Magazine that “the origin of this dreadful story” might be found in Marlowe's Faustus, Byron replied that “the conjecturer is out, and knows nothing of the matter.” When Goethe, reviewing the play, stated that “this singular intellectual poet has taken my Faustus to himself,” Byron retorted that he had never read Faust, “for I don't know German; but Matthew Monk Lewis, in 1816, at Coligny, translated most of it, viva voce, and I was naturally much struck with it.” Earlier he had written, “An American who came the other day from Germany told Mr. Hobhouse that Manfred was taken from Goethe's Faust. The devil may take both the Faustuses, German and English,—I have taken neither.” He was receptive only to Jeffrey's suggestion of an Aeschylean influence. Prometheus, he confessed, “has always been so much in my head, that I can easily conceive its influence over all or anything that I have written.”