The Works of Lord Byron

A king of feasts, and flowers, and wine, and | And wilt thou not now tarry for a day,

revel,

And love,and mirth, was never king of glory.
Sard. Glory! what's that?
Myrrha. Ask of the gods thy fathers.
Sard. They cannot answer; when the
priests speak for them,

Tis for some small addition to the temple. Myrrha. Look to the annals of thine empire's founders.

Sard.

They are so blotted o'er with blood, I cannot.

But what wouldst have? the empire has been founded.

I cannot go on multiplying empires.
Myrrha. Preserve thine own.
Sard. At least I will enjoy it.
Come, Myrrha, let us on to the Euphrates;
The hour invites, the galley is prepared,
And the pavilion, deck'd for our return,
In fit adornment for the evening-banquet,
Shall blaze with beauty and with light,
until

It seems unto the stars which are above us
Itself an opposite star; and we will sit
Crown'd with fresh flowers like-
Myrrha. Victims,

Sard. No, like sovereigns,

The shepherd-kings of patriarchal times, Who knew no brighter gems than summerwreaths,

And none but tearless triumphs. Let us on.
Enter PANIA.

Pania. May the king live for ever!
Sard. Not an hour

Longer than he can love. How my soul

hates

This language, which makes life itself a lie, Flattering dust with eternity. Well, Pania! Be brief.

Pania. I am charged by Salemenes to Reiterate his prayer unto the king, That for this day, at least, he will not quit The palace: when the general returns, He will adduce such reasons as will warrant His daring, and perhaps obtain the pardon Of his presumption.

Sard. What! am I then coop'd? Already captive? can I not even breathe The breath of heaven? Tell prince Salemenes, Were all Assyria raging round the walls In mutinous myriads, I would still go forth. Pania. I must obey, and yetMyrrha. Oh, monarch, listen! How many a day and moon thou hast reclined Within thesepalace-walls in silken dalliance, And never shown thee to thy people's longing;

Leaving thy subjects' eyes ungratified, The satraps uncontroll'd, the gods unwor

shipp'd,

And all things in the anarchy of sloth, Till all, save evil, slumber'd through the realm!

Of all thy faithful subjects, who will rally Round thee and thine.

Sard. These are mere phantasies;
There is no peril :-'tis a sullen scheme
Of Salemenes, to approve his zeal,
And show himself more necessary to us.
Myrrha. By all that's good and glorious,
take this counsel.

Sard. Business to-morrow.
Myrrha. Ay, or death to-night.
Sard.

Why, let it come, then, unexpectedly,

'Midst joy and gentleness,and mirth and love; So let me fall like the pluck'd rose! - far better

Thus than be wither'd.

Myrrha. Then thou wilt not yield, Even for the sake of all that ever stirr'd A monarch into action, to forego A trifling revel?

Sard. No.

Myrrha. Then yield for mine;
For my sake!

Sard. Thine, my Myrrha ?
Myrrha. Tis the first

Boon which I e'er ask'd Assyria's king.
Sard. That's true; and, wer't my king-

dom, must be granted.

Well, for thy sake, I yield me. Pania, hence!
Thou hearst me.

Pania. And obey.
Sard. I marvel at thee.

[Exit Pania.

What is thy motive, Myrrha, thus to urge me? Myrrha. Thy safety; and the certainty

that nought

Could urge the prince, thy kinsman, to require

Thus much from thee, but some impending danger.

Sard. And if I do not dread it, why shouldst thou?

Myrrha. Because thou dost not fear, I fear for thee.

Sard.

To-morrow thou wilt smile at these vain fancies.

Myrrha. If the worst come, I shall be

Myrrha. Where?

Sard. With Baal, Nimrod and Semiramis,
Sole in Assyria, or with them elsewhere.
Fate made me what I am- may make me
nothing-

But either that or nothing must I be:
I will not live degraded.
Myrrha. Hadst thou felt

ACT II

SCENE I.-The Portal of the same Hall of the Palace.

Beleses. (solus) The sun goes down: methinks he sets more slowly,

Taking his last look of Assyria's empire.

Thus always, none would ever dare degrade How red he glares amongst those deepening

thee.

Sard. And who will do so now?
Myrrha. Dost thou suspect none?

Sard. Suspect! - that's a spy's office. Oh!
we lose

Ten thousand precious moments in vain words,

And vainer fears. Within there! Ye slaves,

deck

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,

there!

Here we are still unmenaced. Ho! within
[Exit Sardanapalus.
Myrrha. (sola) Why do I love this man?
My country's daughters

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

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 creed;

my country's I was not made for either. Could I save him, I should not love him better, but myself; 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

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 bat

tling long

Twixt Ilion and the sea, within his heart, 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,
May show him how alone a king can leave
His throne. I must not lose him from my
sight.
[Exit.

Hour of Assyria's years. And yet how calm!
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!
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
All-glorious burst from ocean? why not dart
A beam of hope athwart the future's 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,
And bow'd my head beneath thy mid-day
beams,

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 glorious? 'Tis a sunset;
And mortals may be happy to resemble
The gods but in decay.

Enter ARBACES, by an inner door.
So rapt in thy devotions? Dost thou stand
Arbaces. Belcses, why
Gazing to trace thy disappearing god
Our business is with night—'tis come.
Into some realm of undiscover'd day?
Beleses. But not

Arbaces. And is a weak one 'tis worn And therefore need a soldier to command

out-we'll mend it.

Beleses. Art sure of that?

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?
Why spur me to this enterprise? your own
No less than mine?

Beleses. Look to the sky?
Arbaces. I look.

Beleses. What seest thou?

you have more

To make a rebel out of? A fool reigning,
His blood dishonour'd,and himself disdain'd;

Arbaces. A fair summer's twilight, and Why, it is his revenge we work for.

The gathering of the stars.

Beleses. And midst them, mark

Yon earliest, and the brightest, which so

quivers,

As it would quit its place in the blue ether. Arbaces. Well?

Beleses. 'Tis thy natal ruler-thy birthplanet.

Arbaces (touching his scabbard). My star is in this scabbard: when it shines, It shall out-dazzle comets. Let us think Of what is to be done to justify

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.
Beleses. Ay, and the most devout for
brave-thou hast not

Seen me turn back from battle.

Arbaces. No; I own thee

As firm in fight as Babylonia's captain,
As skilful in Chaldea's worship; now,
Will it but please thee to forget the priest,
And be the warrior?

Beleses. Why not both?
Arbaces. The better;

And yet it almost shames me, we shall have
So little to effect. This woman's warfare

Beleses. Could

Arbaees. I like not this same sudden We have the privilege to approach the

Beleses. Doth he not change a thousand
times a day?

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?

Arbaces. He loved that gay pavilionit was ever

His summer-dotage.

Beleses. And he loved his queen-
And thrice a thousand harlotry besides-
And he has loved all things by turns, except
Wisdom and glory.

Arbaces.

Still-I like it not.

Sal. (continuing) Satraps,
Your swords.

Beleses. (delivering his) My Lord, behold
my scimitar.

Arbaces. (drawing his sword) Take mine.
Sal. (advancing) I will.

Arbaces. But in your heart the blade-
The hilt quits not this hand.

Sal. (drawing) How! dost thou brave me? "Tis well-this saves a trial and false mercy.

If he has changed-why so must we: the Soldiers, hew down the rebel!

attack

Were easy in the isolated bower,

Beset with drowsy guards and drunken courtiers;

But in the Hall of Nimrod

Beleses. Is it so?

Methought the haughty soldier fear'd to

mount

A throne too easily; does it disappoint thee
To find there is a slipperier step or two
Than what was counted on?

Arbaces. When the hour comes,
Thou shalt perceive how far I fear or no.
Thou hast seen my life at stake—and gaily
play'd for:

But here is more upon the die-a kingdom.
Beleses. I have foretold already- thou
wilt win it:

Then on, and prosper.

Arbaces. Now, were I a soothsayer,
I would have boded so much to myself.
But be the stars obey'd—I cannot quarrel
With them, nor their interpreter. Who's
here?

Enter SALEMENES,

Sal. Satraps!

Beleses. My prince!

Sal. Well niet-I sought ye both, But elsewhere than the palace. Arbaces. Wherefore so?

Sal. 'Tis not the hour.

Arbaces. The hour-what hour?
Sal. Of midnight.

Beleses. Midnight, my lord!
Sal. What, are you not invited?
Beleses. Oh! yes-we had forgotten.
Sal. Is it usual

Thus to forget a sovereign's invitation?
Arbaces. Why-we but now received it.
Sal. Then why here?
Arbaces. On duty.
Sal. On what duty?
Beleses. On the state's.

Arbaces. Soldiers! Ay

Alone you dare not.

Sal. Alone! foolish slave

What is there in thee that a prince should shrink from

Of open force? We dread thy treason, not Thy strength: thy tooth is nought without its venom

The serpent's, not the lion's. Cut him down. Beleses (interposing). Arbaces! are you mad? Have I not render'd

My sword? Then trust like me our sovereign's justice.

Arbaces. No I will sooner trust the

stars thou prat'st of

And this slight arm, and die a king at least
Of my own breath and body-so far that
None else shall chain them.

Sal. (to the Guards) You hear him,and me.
Take him not — kill.

[The Guards attack Arbaces, who defends himself valiantly and dexterously till they waver.

Sal. Is it even so; and must

I do the hangman's office? Recreants! see

How you should fell a traitor.

[Salemenes attacks Arbaces.

Enter SARDANAPALUS and Train.

Sard. Hold your hands—

Upon your lives, I say. What, deaf or drunken?

My sword! Oh fool, I wear no sword: here, fellow,

Give me thy weapon.

[To`a Guard.

[Sardanapalus snatches a sword from one of the soldiers, and makes between the combatants-they separate.

Sard. In my very palace!

What hinders me from cleaving you in twain,
Audacious brawlers?

Beleses. Sire, your justice.
Sal. Or-

Your weakness.

Hirelings, who live by lies on good men's lives.

You must have been deceived, my brother. Sal. First

Let him deliver up his weapon, and Proclaim himself your subject by that duty, And I will answer all.

Sard. Why, if I thought so

The scimitar to me he never yielded
Unto our enemies. Chief, keep your weapon.
Sal. (delivering back the signet) Monarch,
take back your signet.

Sard. No, retain it;

But use it with more moderation.
Sal. Sire,

I used it for your honour, and restore Ħ
Because I cannot keep it with my own.
Bestow it on Arbaces.

Sard. So I should: He never ask'd it.

Sal. Doubt not, he will have it Without that hollow semblance of respect. Beleses. I know not what hath prejudiced the prince

So strongly 'gainst two subjects, than whom

Sal. My Lord!

Sard. To school me in the worship of Assyria's idols! Let him be released— Give him his sword.

Sal. My lord, and king, and brother, I pray ye pause.

Sard. Yes, and be sermonized, And dinn'd, and deafen'd with dead men and Baal,

And all Chaldea's starry mysteries.
Beleses. Monarch! respect them.
Sard. Oh! for that-I love them;
I love to watch them in the deep blue vault,
And to compare them with my Myrrha's eyes,
I love to see their rays redoubled in

But no, it cannot be; the Mede Arbaces-
The trusty, rough, true soldier-the best | The tremulous silver of Euphrates' wave,

captain

Of all who discipline our nations—No,
I'll not insult him thus, to bid him render

As the light breeze of midnight crisps the

broad

And rolling water,sighing through the sedges

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The Works of Lord Byron: Complete in One Volume