In mutinous myriads, I would still go forth. | |
PANIA | |
MYRRHA | |
How many a day and moon thou hast reclined | |
580 | Within these palace walls in silken dalliance, |
And never shown thee to thy people’s longing; | |
Leaving thy subjects’ eyes ungratified, | |
The satraps uncontroll’d, the gods unworshipp’d, | |
And all things in the anarchy of sloth, | |
585 | Till all, save evil, slumber’d through the realm! |
And wilt thou not now tarry for a day, — | |
A day which may redeem thee? Wilt thou not | |
Yield to the few still faithful a few hours, | |
For them, for thee, for thy past father’s race, | |
590 | And for thy sons’ inheritance? |
PANIA | |
From the deep urgency with which the prince | |
Despatch’d me to your sacred presence, I | |
Must dare to add my feeble voice to that | |
Which now has spoken. | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
595 | MYRRHA |
SARDANAPALUS | |
PANIA | |
Of all thy faithful subjects, who will rally | |
Round thee and thine. | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
There is no peril: – ’tis a sullen scheme | |
Of Salemenes, to approve his zeal, | |
600 | And show himself more necessary to us. |
MYRRHA | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
MYRRHA | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
‘Midst joy and gentleness, and mirth and love; | |
605 | So let me fall like the pluck’d rose! – far better |
Thus than be wither’d. | |
MYRRHA | |
Even for the sake of all that ever stirr’d | |
A monarch into action, to forego | |
A trifling revel. | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
MYRRHA | |
610 | For my sake! |
SARDANAPALUS | |
MYRRHA | |
Boon which I ever ask’d Assyria’s king. | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
Well, for thy sake, I yield me. Pania, hence! | |
Thou hear’st me. | |
PANIA | |
[ | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
615 | What is thy motive, Myrrha, thus to urge me? |
MYRRHA | |
Could urge the prince thy kinsman to require | |
Thus much from thee, but some impending danger. | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
620 | MYRRHA |
SARDANAPALUS | |
MYRRHA | |
And that is better than the power to smile. | |
And thou? | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
625 | MYRRHA |
SARDANAPALUS | |
Fate made me what I am – may make me nothing — | |
But either that or nothing must I be: | |
I will not live degraded. | |
MYRRHA | |
630 | Thus always, none would ever dare degrade thee. |
SARDANAPALUS | |
MYRRHA | |
SARDANAPALUS | |
Ten thousand precious moments in vain words, | |
And vainer fears. Within there! – ye slaves, deck | |
635 | The hall of Nimrod for the evening revel: |
If I must make a prison of our palace, | |
At least we’ll wear our fetters jocundly; | |
If the Euphrates be forbid us, and | |
The summer dwelling on its beauteous border, | |
640 | Here we are still unmenaced. Ho! within there! |
[Exit | |
MYRRHA | |
Love none but heroes. But I have no country! | |
The slave hath lost all save her bonds. I love him; | |
And that’s the heaviest link of the long chain — | |
645 | To love whom we esteem not. Be it so: |
The hour is coming when he’ll need all love, | |
And find none. To fall from him now were baser | |
Than to have stabb’d him on his throne when highest | |
Would have been noble in my country’s creed: | |
650 | I was not made for either. Could I save him, |
I should not love | |
And I have need of the last, for I have fallen | |
In my own thoughts, by loving this soft stranger: | |
And yet methinks I love him more, perceiving | |
655 | That he is hated of his own barbarians, |
The natural foes of all the blood of Greece. | |
Could I but wake a single thought like those | |
Which even the Phrygians felt when battling long | |
’Twixt Ilion and the sea, within his heart, | |
660 | He would tread down the barbarous crowds, and triumph. |
He loves me, and I love him; the slave loves | |
Her master, and would free him from his vices. | |
If not, I have a means of freedom still, | |
And if I cannot teach him how to reign, | |
665 | May show him how alone a king can leave |
His throne. I must not lose him from my sight. | |
[ |
Act II | |
SCENE I | |
The Portal of the same Hall of the Palace | |
BELESES | |
Taking his last look of Assyria’s empire. | |
How red he glares amongst those deepening clouds, | |
Like the blood he predicts. If not in vain, | |
5 | Thou sun that sinkest, and ye stars which rise, |
I have outwatch’d ye, reading ray by ray | |
The edicts of your orbs, which make Time tremble | |
For what he brings the nations, ’tis the furthest | |
Hour of Assyria’s years. And yet how calm! | |
10 | An earthquake should announce so great a fall — |
A summer’s sun discloses it. Yon disk, | |
To the star-read Chaldean, bears upon | |
Its everlasting page the end of what | |
Seem’d everlasting; but oh! thou true sun! | |
15 | The burning oracle of all that live, |
As fountain of all life, and symbol of | |
Him who bestows it, wherefore dost thou limit | |
Thy lore unto calamity? Why not | |
Unfold the rise of days more worthy thine | |
20 | All-glorious burst from ocean? why not dart |
A beam of hope athwart the future years, | |
As of wrath to its days? Hear me! oh, hear me! | |
I am thy worshipper, thy priest, thy servant – | |
I have gazed on thee at thy rise and fall, | |
25 | And bow’d my head beneath thy mid-day beams, |
When my eye dared not meet thee. I have watch’d | |
For thee, and after thee, and pray’d to thee, | |
And sacrificed to thee, and read, and fear’d thee, | |
And ask’d of thee, and thou hast answer’d – but | |
30 | Only to thus much: while I speak, he sinks — |
Is gone – and leaves his beauty, not his knowledge, | |
To the delighted west, which revels in | |
Its hues of dying glory. Yet what is | |
Death, so it be but glorious? ’Tis a sunset; | |
35 | And mortals may be happy to resemble |
The gods but in decay. | |
[ | |
ARBACES | |
So rapt in thy devotions? Dost thou stand | |
Gazing to trace thy disappearing god | |
Into some realm of undiscover’d day? | |
Our business is with night – ’tis come. | |
40 | BELESES |
ARBACES | |
BELESES | |
Would it were over! | |
ARBACES | |
To whom the very stars shine victory? | |
BELESES | |
45 | ARBACES |
I have prepared as many glittering spears | |
As will out-sparkle our allies – your planets. | |
There is no more to thwart us. The she-king, | |
That less than woman, is even now upon | |
50 | The waters with his female mates. The order |
Is issued for the feast in the pavilion. | |
The first cup which he drains will be the last | |
Quaff’d by the line of Nimrod. | |
BELESES | |
ARBACES | |
55 | BELESES |
ARBACES: Its founder was a hunter – | |
I am a soldier – what is there to fear? | |
BELESES: The soldier. | |
ARBACES:And the priest, it may be: but | |
If you thought thus, or think, why not retain | |
Your king of concubines? why stir me up? | |
60 | Why spur me to this enterprise? your own |
No less than mine? | |
BELESES | |
ARBACES | |
BELESES | |
ARBACES | |
The gathering of the stars. | |
BELESES | |
Yon earliest, and the brightest, which so quivers, | |
65 | As it would quit its place in the blue ether. |
ARBACES | |
BELESES | |
ARBACES | |
It shall out-dazzle comets. Let us think | |
Of what is to be done to justify | |
70 | Thy planets and their portents. When we conquer, |
They shall have temples – ay, and priests – and thou | |
Shalt be the pontiff of – what gods thou wilt; | |
For I observe that they are ever just, | |
And own the bravest for the most devout. | |
75 | BELESES |
ARBACES | |
As firm in fight as Babylonia’s captain, | |
As skilful in Chaldea’s worship: now, | |
Will it but please thee to forget the priest, | |
80 | And be the warrior? |
BELESES | |
ARBACES | |
And yet it almost shames me, we shall have | |
So little to effect. This woman’s warfare | |
Degrades the very conqueror. To have pluck’d | |
A bold and bloody despot from his throne, | |
85 | And grappled with him, clashing steel with steel, |
That were heroic or to win or fall; | |
But to upraise my sword against this silkworm, | |
And hear him whine, it may be — | |
BELESES | |
He has that in him which may make you strife yet; | |
90 | And were he all you think, his guards are hardy, |
And headed by the cool, stern Salemenes. | |
ARBACES | |
BELESES | |
ARBACES | |
And therefore need a soldier to command them. | |
BELESES | |
ARBACES | |
95 | Besides, he hates the effeminate thing that governs, |
For the queen’s sake, his sister. Mark you not | |
He keeps aloof from all the revels? | |
BELESES | |
Not from the council – there he is ever constant. | |
ARBACES | |
100 | To make a rebel out of? A fool reigning, |
His blood dishonour’d, and himself disdain’d: | |
Why, it is | |
BELESES | |
He but be brought to think so: this I doubt of. | |
ARBACES | |
BELESES | |
[ | |
105 | BALEA |
The feast to-night. | |
BELESES | |
In the pavilion? | |
BALEA | |
ARBACES | |
BALEA | |
ARBACES | |
BALEA:I know not. | |
110 | May I retire? |
ARBACES:Stay. | |
BELESES [ | |
[ | |
Yes, Balea, thank the monarch, kiss the hem | |
Of his imperial robe, and say, his slaves | |
Will take the crums he deigns to scatter from | |
His royal table at the hour – was’t midnight? | |
115 | BALEA |
I humble me before you, and depart. | |
[ | |
ARBACES | |
There is some mystery: wherefore should he change it? | |
BELESES | |
120 | Sloth is of all things the most fanciful – |
And moves more parasangs in its intents | |
Than generals in their marches, when they seek | |
To leave their foe at fault. – Why dost thou muse? |