by Byron
Is pointed at the fair hair and fair features,
And the broad fillet which crowns both.
MYRRHA:Ye gods,
Who fulminate o’er my father’s land, protect him!
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Were you sent by the king?
ALTADA:By Salemenes,
Who sent me privily upon this charge,
Without the knowledge of the careless sovereign.
The king! the king fights as he revels! ho!
What, Sfero! I will seek the armoury –
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He must be there.
[Exit ALTADA.]
MYRRHA: ’Tis no dishonour – no –
’Tis no dishonour to have loved this man.
I almost wish now, what I never wish’d
Before, that he were Grecian. If Alcides
Were shamed in wearing Lydian Omphale’s
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She-garb, and wielding her vile distaff; surely
He, who springs up a Hercules at once,
Nursed in effeminate arts from youth to manhood,
And rushes from the banquet to the battle,
As though it were a bed of love, deserves
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That a Greek girl should be his paramour,
And a Greek bard his minstrel, a Greek tomb
His monument. How goes the strife, sir?
[Enter an OFFICER.]
OFFICER:Lost,
Lost almost past recovery. Zames! Where
Is Zames?
MYRRHA: Posted with the guard appointed
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To watch before the apartment of the women.
[Exit OFFICER.]
MYRRHA [sola]: He’s gone; and told no more than that all’s lost!
What need have I to know more? In those words,
Those little words, a kingdom and a king,
A line of thirteen ages, and the lives
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Of thousands, and the fortune of all left
With life, are merged; and I, too, with the great,
Like a small bubble breaking with the wave
Which bore it, shall be nothing. At the least,
My fate is in my keeping: no proud victor
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Shall count me with his spoils.
[Enter PANIA.]
PANIA:Away with me,
Myrrha, without delay; we must not lose
A moment – all that’s left us now.
MYRRHA:The king?
PANIA: Sent me here to conduct you hence, beyond
The river, by a secret passage.
MYRRHA:Then
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He lives –
PANIA:And charged me to secure your life,
And beg you to live on for his sake, till
He can rejoin you.
MYRRHA:Will he then give way?
PANIA: Not till the last. Still still he does whate’er
Despair can do; and step by step disputes
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The very palace.
MYRRHA: They are here, then: – ay,
Their shouts come ringing through the ancient halls,
Never profaned by rebel echoes till
This fatal night. Farewell, Assyria’s line!
Farewell to all of Nimrod! Even the name
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Is now no more.
PANIA: Away with me – away!
MYRRHA: No: I’ll die here! – Away, and tell your king
I loved him to the last.
[Enter SARDANAPALUS and SALEMENES with Soldiers. PANIA quits MYRRHA, and ranges himself with them.]
SARDANAPALUS:Since it is thus,
We’ll die where we were born – in our own halls.
Serry your ranks – stand firm. I have despatch’d
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A trusty satrap for the guard of Zames,
All fresh and faithful; they’ll be here anon.
All is not over. – Pania, look to Myrrha.
[PANIA returns towards MYRRHA.]
SALEMENES: We have breathing time; yet once more charge, my friends –
One for Assyria!
SARDANAPALUS: Rather say for Bactria!
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My faithful Bactrians, I will henceforth be
King of your nation, and we’ll hold together
This realm as province.
SALEMENES: Hark! they come – they come.
[Enter BELESES and ARBACES with the Rebels.]
ARBACES: Set on, we have them in the toil. Charge!
charge!
BELESES: On! on! – Heaven fights for us, and with us – On!
[They charge the King and SALEMENES with their Troops, who defend themselves till the arrival of ZAMES, with the Guard before mentioned. The Rebels are then driven off, and pursued by SALEMENES, &c. As the King is going to join the pursuit, BELESES crosses him.]
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BELESES: Ho! tyrant – I will end this war.
SARDANAPALUS:Even so,
My warlike priest, and precious prophet, and
Grateful and trusty subject: – yield, I pray thee.
I would reserve thee for a fitter doom,
Rather than dip my hands in holy blood.
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BELESES: Thine hour is come.
SARDANAPALUS:No, thine. – I’ve lately read,
Though but a young astrologer, the stars;
And ranging round the zodiac, found thy fate
In the sign of the Scorpion, which proclaims
That thou wilt now be crush’d.
BELESES:But not by thee.
[They fight; BELESES is wounded and disarmed.]
SARDANAPALUS [raising his sword to despatch him, exclaims]:
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Now call upon thy planets, will they shoot
From the sky to preserve their seer and credit?
[A party of Rebels enter and rescue BELESES. They assail the King, who, in turn, is rescued by a Party of his Soldiers, who drive the Rebels off.]
The villain was a prophet after all.
Upon them – ho! there – victory is ours.
[Exit in pursuit.]
MYRRHA [to PANIA]: Pursue! Why stand’st thou here, and leavest the ranks
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Of fellow soldiers conquering without thee?
PANIA: The king’s command was not to quit thee.
MYRRHA:Me!
Think not of me – a single soldier’s arm
Must not be wanting now. I ask no guard,
I need no guard: what, with a world at stake,
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Keep watch upon a woman? Hence, I say,
Or thou art shamed! Nay, then, I will go forth,
A feeble female, ’midst their desperate strife,
And bid thee guard me there – where thou shouldst shield
Thy sovereign.
[Exit MYRRHA.]
PANIA:Yet stay, damsel! She’s gone.
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If aught of ill betide her, better I
Had lost my life. Sardanapalus holds her
Far dearer than his kingdom, yet he fights
For that too; and can I do less than he,
Who never flash’d a scimitar till now?
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Myrrha, return, and I obey you, though
In disobedience to the monarch.
[Exit PANIA.]
[Enter ALTADA and SFERO by an opposite door.]
ALTADA:Myrrha!
What, gone? yet she was here when the fight raged
And Pania also. Can aught have befallen them?
SFERO: I saw both safe, when late the rebels fled:
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They probably are but retired to make
Their way back to the harem.
ALTADA:If the king
Prove victor, as it seems even now he must,
And miss his own Ionian, we are doom’d
To worse than captive rebels.
SFERO:Let us trace them;
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; She cannot be fled far; and, found, she makes
A richer prize to our soft sovereign
Than his recover’d kingdom.
ALTADA:Baal himself
Ne’er fought more fiercely to win empire, than
His silken son to save it: he defies
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All augury of foes or friends; and like
The close and sultry summer’s day, which bodes
A twilight tempest, bursts forth in such thunder
As sweeps the air and deluges the earth.
The man’s inscrutable.
SFERO:Not more than others.
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All are the sons of circumstance: away —
Let’s seek the slave out, or prepare to be
Tortured for his infatuation, and
Condemn’d without a crime.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter SALEMENES and Soldiers, &.]
SALEMENES:The triumph is
Flattering: they are beaten backward from the palace,
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And we have open’d regular access
To the troops station’d on the other side
Euphrates, who may still be true; nay, must be,
When they hear of our victory. But where
Is the chief victor? where’s the king?
[Enter SARDANAPALUS, cum suis, &c. and MYRRHA.]
SARDANAPALUS:Here, brother.
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SALEMENES: Unhurt, I hope.
SARDANAPALUS:Not quite; but let it pass.
We’ve clear’d the palace —
SALEMENES:And I trust the city.
Our numbers gather; and I’ve ordered onward
A cloud of Parthians, hitherto reserved,
All fresh and fiery, to be pour’d upon them
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In their retreat, which soon will be a flight.
SARDANAPALUS: It is already, or at least they march’d
Faster than I could follow with my Bactrians,
Who spared no speed. I am spent: give me a seat.
SALEMENES: There stands the throne, sire.
SARDANAPALUS:’Tis no place to rest on,
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For mind nor body: let me have a couch,
[They place a seat.]
A peasant’s stool, I care not what: so — now
I breathe more freely.
SALEMENES:This great hour has proved
The brightest and most glorious of your life.
SARDANAPALUS: And the most tiresome. Where’s my cupbearer?
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Bring me some water.
SALEMENES [smiling]: ’Tis the first time he Ever had such an order: even I,
Your most austere of counsellors, would now Suggest a purpler beverage.
SARDANAPALUS:Blood – doubtless.
But there’s enough of that shed; as for wine,
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I have learn’d to-night the price of the pure element:
Thrice have I drank of it, and thrice renew’d,
With greater strength than the grape ever gave me,
My charge upon the rebels. Where’s the soldier
Who gave me water in his helmet?
ONE OF THE GUARDS:Slain, sire!
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An arrow pierced his brain, while, scattering
The last drops from his helm, he stood in act
To place it on his brows.
SARDANAPALUS:Slain! unrewarded!
And slain to serve my thirst: that’s hard, poor slave!
Had he but lived, I would have gorged him with
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Gold: all the gold of earth could ne’er repay
The pleasure of that draught; for I was parch’d
As I am now.
[They bring water – he drinks.]
I live again – from henceforth
The goblet I reserve for hours of love,
But war on water.
SALEMENES:And that bandage, sire,
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Which girds your arm?
SARDANAPALUS:A scratch from brave Beleses.
MYRRHA: Oh! he is wounded!
SARDANAPALUS:Not too much of that;
And yet it feels a little stiff and painful,
Now I am cooler.
MYRRHA: You have bound it with —
SARDANAPALUS: The fillet of my diadem: the first time
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That ornament was ever aught to me,
Save an incumbrance.
MYRRHA [to the Attendants]: Summon speedily
A leech of the most skilful: pray, retire:
I will unbind your wound and tend it.
SARDANAPALUS:Do so,
For now it throbs sufficiently: but what
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Know’st thou of wounds? yet wherefore do I ask?
Know’st thou, my brother, where I lighted on
This minion?
SALEMENES: Herding with the other females,
Like frighten’d antelopes.
SARDANAPALUS:No: like the dam
Of the young lion, femininely raging,
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(And femininely meaneth furiously,
Because all passions in excess are female,)
Against the hunter flying with her cub,
She urged on with her voice and gesture, and
Her floating hair and flashing eyes, the soldiers,
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In the pursuit.
SALEMENES: Indeed!
SARDANAPALUS:You see, this night
Made warriors of more than me. I paused
To look upon her, and her kindled cheek;
Her large black eyes, that flash’d through her long hair
As it stream’d o’er her; her blue veins that rose
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Along her most transparent brow; her nostril
Dilated from its symmetry; her lips
Apart; her voice that clove through all the din,
As a lute’s pierceth through the cymbal’s clash,
Jarr’d but not drown’d by the loud brattling; her
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Waved arms, more dazzling with their own born whiteness
Than the steel her hand held, which she caught up
From a dead soldier’s grasp; – all these things made
Her seem unto the troops a prophetess
Of victory, or Victory herself,
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Come down to hail us hers.
SALEMENES [aside]:This is too much.
Again the love-fit’s on him, and all’s lost,
Unless we turn his thoughts.
[Aloud:]But pray thee, sire,
Think of your wound – you said even now ’twas painful.
SARDANAPALUS: That’s true, too; but I must not think of it.
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SALEMENES: I have look’d to all things needful, and will now
Receive reports of progress made in such
Orders as I had given, and then return
To hear your further pleasure.
SARDANAPALUS:Be it so.
SALEMENES [in retiring]: Myrrha!
MYRRHA:Prince!
SALEMENES:You have shown a soul to-night,
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Which, were he not my sister’s lord — But now
I have no time: thou lovest the king?
MYRRHA:I love
Sardanapalus.
SALEMENES: But wouldst have him king still?
MYRRHA: I would have him less than what he should be.
SALEMENES: Well then, to have him king, and yours,
and all
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He should, or should not be; to have him live,
Let him not sink back into luxury.
You have more power upon his spirit than
Wisdom within these walls, or fierce rebellion
Raging without: look well that he relapse not.
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MYRRHA: There needed not the voice of Salemenes
To urge me on to thi
s: I will not fail.
All that a woman’s weakness can —
SALEMENES:Is power
Omnipotent o’er such a heart as his:
Exert it wisely.
[Exit SALEMENES.]
SARDANAPALUS: Myrrha! what, at whispers
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With my stern brother? I shall soon be jealous.
MYRRHA [smiling]: You have cause, sire; for on the earth there breathes not
A man more worthy of a woman’s love –
A soldier’s trust – a subject’s reverence –
A king’s esteem – the whole woorld’s admiration!
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SARDANAPALUS: Praise him, but not so warmly. I must not
Hear those sweet lips grow eloquent in aught
That throws me into shade; yet you speak truth.
MYRRHA: And now retire, to have your wound look’d to.
Pray, lean on me.
SARDANAPALUS: Yes, love! but not from pain.
[Exeunt omnes.]
Act IV
SCENE I
SARDANAPALUS discovered sleeping upon a Couch, and occasionally disturbed in his Slumbers, with MYRRHA watching.
MYRRHA [sola, gazing]: I have stolen upon his rest, if rest it be,
Which thus convulses slumber: shall I wake him?
No, he seems calmer. Oh, thou God of Quiet!
Whose reign is o’er seal’d eyelids and soft dreams,
5
Or deep, deep sleep, so as to be unfathom’d,
Look like thy brother, Death, – so still – so stirless –
For then we are happiest, as it may be, we
Are happiest of all within the realm
Of thy stern, silent, and unwakening twin.
10
Again he moves – again the play of pain
Shoots o’er his features, as the sudden gust
Crisps the reluctant lake that lay so calm
Beneath the mountain shadow; or the blast
Ruffles the autumn leaves, that drooping cling
15
Faintly and motionless to their loved boughs.
I must awake him – yet not yet: who knows
From what I rouse him? It seems pain; but if
I quicken him to heavier pain? The fever
Of this tumultuous night, the grief too of
20
His wound, though slight, may cause all this, and shake
Me more to see than him to suffer. No:
Let Nature use her own maternal means, —
And I await to second, not disturb her.
SARDANAPALUS [awakening]: Not so – although ye
multiplied the stars,
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And gave them to me as a realm to share
From you and with you! I would not so purchase
The empire of eternity. Hence – hence –
Old hunter of the earliest brutes! and ye,
Who hunted fellow-creatures as if brutes!
30
Once bloody mortals – and now bloodier idols,
If your priests lie not! And thou, ghastly beldame!
Dripping with dusky gore, and trampling on