Beleses. So we should be, were justice always done Which fringe his banks; but whether they may be Gods, as some say, or the abodes of gods, By earthly power omnipotent; but innocence As others hold, or simply lamps of night, | Must oft receive her right as a mere Worlds, or the lights of worlds, I know nor care not. There's something sweet in my uncertainty Beleses. For neither, sire, say better. If it so please you,pontiff, for that knowledge. In the mean time receive your sword, and know That I prefer your service militant favour. Sard. That's a good sentence for a homily, Though not for this occasion. Prithee keep it To plead thy sovereign's cause before his people. Beleses. I trust there is no cause. But many causers:-if ye meet with such Than him who ruleth many and slays none; And,hating not himself, yet loves his fellows Enough to spare even those who would not spare him, Were they once masters but that's doubtful. Satraps! Your swords and persons are at liberty [Exeunt Sardanapalus, Salemenes, The night the same we destined. He hath changed Nothing, except our ignorance of all Beleses. What, doubting still? Beleses. And how long Will he so spare? till the first drunken minute. Arbaces. Or sober, rather. Yet he did it nobly; Gave royally what we had forfeited Beleses. Say bravely. Arbaces. Somewhat of both perhaps. But it has touch'd me, and, whate'er betide, I will no further on. Beleses. And lose the world! Arbaces. Lose any thing, except my own, And must pursue but what a plain heart esteem. teaches. Beleses. I blush that we should owe our And now you know me. lives to such And waking in the dark.-Go to-go to. Arbaces. Methought he look'd like Nimrod as he spoke, Even as the proud imperial statue stands Beleses. Have you finish'd? Arbaces. Yes I'll on alone. Arbaces. Alone! Beleses. Thrones hold but one. Arbaces. But this is fill'd. Beleses. With worse than vacancy Looking the monarch of the kings around it, A despised monarch. Look to it, Arbaces: And sways, while they but ornament, the|1 have still aided, cherish'd, loved, and temple. Beleses. I told you that you had too much despised him, And that there was some royalty within him. What then? he is the nobler foe. urged you; Was willing even to serve you, in the hope To serve and savc Assyria. Heaven itself Seem'd to consent, and all events were friendly, Even to the last, till that your spirit shrunk Into a shallow softness; but now, rather Than see my country languish, I will be Her saviour or the victim of her tyrant, Or one or both, for sometimes both are one: And if I win, Arbaces is my servant. Arbaces. Your servant! Beleses. Why not? better than be slave, The pardon'd slave of she Sardanapalus. Beleses. Yes, to the gates That grate the palace, which is now our prison, No further. Arbaces. Thou hast harp'd the truth indeed! The realm itself, in all its wide extension, Yawns dungeons at each step for thee and me. Beleses. Graves! Arbaces. If I thought so, this good sword should dig One more than mine. Beleses. It shall have work enough: Arbaces. Why, what other How many satraps have I seen set out But they all sicken'd by the way, it was Beleses. Let us but regain The free air of the city, and we'll shorten Arbaces. Twill be shorten'd at the gates, Beleses. No; they hardly will risk that. They mean us to die privately, but not Within the palace or the city-walls, Where we are known and may have partisans: If they had meant to slay us here, we were No longer with the living. Let us hence. Arbaces. If I but thought he did not mean my life Beleses. Fool! hence-what else should despotism alarm'd Mean? Let us but rejoin our troops, and march. Arbaces. Towards our provinces? Beleses. No; towards your kingdom. There's time, there's heart, and hope, and power, and means, Which their half-measures leave us in full scope. Away! Arbaces. And I, even yet repenting, must Relapse to guilt! Beleses. Self-defence is a virtue, Let us not leave them time for further Our quick departure proves our civic zeal; [Exit with Arbaces, who follows Enter SARDANAPALUS and SALEMENES. That worst of mockeries of a remedy; As he who treads on flowers is from the adder Sard. Why, what wouldst have me do? Sal. Replace the crown now tottering on Sard. That were tyrannical. We are so. What danger can they work upon the frontier? Sal. They are not there yet-never should they be so, Were I well listen'd to. Sard. Nay, I have listen'd Impartially to thee why not to them? Sal. You may know that hereafter; as it is, Dispense with me-I am no wassailer: Sard. Nay,but 'tis fit to revel now and then. Too oft. Sard. Am I permitted to depart? My brother, my best subject, better prince And I-I know not what, and care not; but Thine honest wisdom, and thy rough, yet Though oft reproving, sufferance of my follies. If I have spared these men against thy counsel, That is, their lives-it is not that I doubt Sole bulwark of all right. Away, I say! Cavil about their lives and choking, And the walls have a scent of night-shade; hence! them. -so let them mend Their banishment will leave me still sound sleep, Which their death had not left me. Sal. Thus you run The risk to sleep for ever, to save traitors— A moment's pang now changed for years of crime. Still let them be made quiet. Sard. Tempt me not: My word is past. Sal. But it may be recall'd. Sal. And should therefore be decisive. This half-indulgence of an exile serves But to provoke-a pardon should be full, Or it is none. Sard. And who persuaded me After I had repeal'd them, or, at least, Only dismiss'd them from our presence, who Urged me to send them to their satrapies? Sal. True; that I had forgotten; that is, sire, If they e'er reach their satrapies-why, then, Reprove me more for my advice. Sard. And if They do not reach them-look to it!-in safety, In safety, mark me-and security- Sal. Permit me to depart; Sard. Get thee hence, then; And, prithee, think more gently of thy brother. Sal. Sire, I shall ever duly serve my sovereign. [Exit Salemenes. Sard. (solus) That man is of a temper too severe : Hard but as lofty as the rock, and free From all the taints of common earth, while I Am softer clay, impregnated with flowers. But as our mould is, must the produce be. If I have err'd this time, 'tis on the side Where error sits most lightly on that sense, I know not what to call it; but it reckons With me ofttimes for pain, and sometimes pleasure; A spirit which seems placed about my heart To court its throbs,not quicken them, and ask Questions which mortal never dared to Myrrha. Ay, my good lord. Sard. For my own part, I should be Not ill content to vary the smooth scene, And watch the warring elements; but this Would little suit the silken garments and Smooth faces of our festive friends. Say, Myrrha, Art thou of those who dread the roar of clouds? Myrrha. In my own country we respect their voices As auguries of Jove. Sard. Jove-ay, your Baal- Myrrha. That were a dread omen. Beyond the palace-walls to-night, but make Our feast within. Myrrha. Now, Jove be praised! that he Hath heard the prayer thou wouldst not hear. The gods Are kinder to thee than thon to thyself, And flash this storm between thee and thy foes, To shield thee from them. Sard. Child, if there be peril, Methinks it is the same within these walls As on the river's brink. Myrrha. Not so, these walls Are high and strong, and guarded. Treason has The men, or innocent or guilty, are Sard. So sanguinary? Thou! Sard. This is strange; The gentle and the austere are both against me, And urge me to revenge. Myrrha. Tis a Greek virtue. I'll none Myrrha. These men sought to be so. Sard. Myrrha, this is too feminine, and | All hearts are happy, and all voices bless The king of peace, who holds a world in springs From fear Myrrha. For you. Sard. No matter-still 'tis fear. jubilee. Sard. Art sure of that? I have heard otherwise; I have observed your sex, once roused to Some say that there be traitors. wrath, Are timidly vindictive to a pitch The childish helplessness of Asian women. Myrrha. My lord, I am no boaster of my love, Nor of my attributes; I have shared your splendour, And will partake your fortunes. You may live To find one slave more true than subject myriads; But this the gods avert! I am content Except to heighten it, and vanish from ACT III. SCENE 1.-The Hall of the Palace illumi- SARDANAPALUS and his Guests at nated Table-A Storm without, and Thunder occasionally heard during the Banquet. Sard. Fill full! Why this is as it should be: here Is my true realm, amidst bright eyes and faces Happy as fair! Here sorrow cannot reach. Zames. Nor elsewhere-where the king is, pleasure sparkles. Sard. Is not this better now than Nimrod's huntings, Or my wild grandam's chase in search of kingdoms She could not keep when conquer'd? They were, as all thy royal line have been, Yet none of those who went before have reach'd The acme of Sardanapalus, who Has placed his joy in peace-the sole true glory. Sard. And pleasure, good Altada, to which glory Is but the path. What is it that we seek? Zames. Traitors they Who dare to say so!-Tis impossible. What cause? Sard. What cause? true, fill the goblet up; We will not think of them: there are none such, Or if there be, they are gone. Altada. Guests, to my pledge! Down on your knees, and drink a measure to The safety of the king—the monarch, say I? The god Sardanapalus! [Zames and the Guests kneel, and exclaimMightier than His father Baal, the god Sardanapalus! [It thunders as they kneel; some start up in confusion. Zames. Why do ye rise, my friends? In that strong peal His father-gods consented. Myrrha. Menaced, rather. King, wilt thou bear this mad impiety? Sard. Impiety?-nay, if the sires who reign'd Before me can be gods, I'll not disgrace Both you must ever be by all true subjects. Sard. Methinks the thunders still increase: it is An awful night. Myrrha. Oh yes, for those who have No palace to protect their worshippers. Sard. That's true, my Myrrha; and could I convert My realm to one wide shelter for the wretched, I'd do it. Myrrha. Thou'rt no god, then, not to be Able to work a will so good and general, As thy wish would imply. Sard. And your gods, then, Who can, and do not? Myrrha. Do not speak of that, Lest we provoke them. Sard. True, they love not censure Better than mortals. Friends, a thought has struck me: Were there no temples, would there, think Myrrha. The Persian prays Sard. Yes, when the sun shines. |