by Lord Byron
Your swords and persons are at liberty
To use them as ye will — but from this hour 320
I have no call for either. Salemenes!
Follow me.
[Exeunt Sardanapalus, Salemenes, and the Train, etc., leaving Arbaces and Beleses.
Arb. Beleses!
Bel. Now, what think you?
Arb. That we are lost.
Bel. That we have won the kingdom.
Arb. What? thus suspected — with the sword slung o’er us
But by a single hair, and that still wavering,
To be blown down by his imperious breath
Which spared us — why, I know not.
Bel. Seek not why;
But let us profit by the interval.
The hour is still our own — our power the same —
The night the same we destined. He hath changed 330
Nothing except our ignorance of all
Suspicion into such a certainty
As must make madness of delay.
Arb. And yet —
Bel. What, doubting still?
Arb. He spared our lives, nay, more,
Saved them from Salemenes.
Bel. And how long
Will he so spare? till the first drunken minute.
Arb. Or sober, rather. Yet he did it nobly;
Gave royally what we had forfeited
Basely — —
Bel. Say bravely.
Arb. Somewhat of both, perhaps —
But it has touched me, and, whate’er betide, 340
I will no further on.
Bel. And lose the world!
Arb. Lose any thing except my own esteem.
Bel. I blush that we should owe our lives to such
A king of distaffs!
Arb. But no less we owe them;
And I should blush far more to take the grantor’s!
Bel. Thou may’st endure whate’er thou wilt — the stars
Have written otherwise.
Arb. Though they came down,
And marshalled me the way in all their brightness,
I would not follow.
Bel. This is weakness — worse
Than a scared beldam’s dreaming of the dead, 350
And waking in the dark. — Go to — go to.
Arb. Methought he looked like Nimrod as he spoke,
Even as the proud imperial statue stands
Looking the monarch of the kings around it,
And sways, while they but ornament, the temple.
Bel. 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.
Arb. But we
The meaner. — Would he had not spared us!
Bel. So —
Wouldst thou be sacrificed thus readily? 360
Arb. No — but it had been better to have died
Than live ungrateful.
Bel. Oh, the souls of some men!
Thou wouldst digest what some call treason, and
Fools treachery — and, behold, upon the sudden,
Because for something or for nothing, this
Rash reveller steps, ostentatiously,
‘Twixt thee and Salemenes, thou art turned
Into — what shall I say? — Sardanapalus!
I know no name more ignominious.
Arb. But
An hour ago, who dared to term me such 370
Had held his life but lightly — as it is,
I must forgive you, even as he forgave us —
Semiramis herself would not have done it.
Bel. No — the Queen liked no sharers of the kingdom,
Not even a husband.
Arb. I must serve him truly — —
Bel. And humbly?
Arb. No, sir, proudly — being honest.
I shall be nearer thrones than you to heaven;
And if not quite so haughty, yet more lofty.
You may do your own deeming — you have codes,
And mysteries, and corollaries of 380
Right and wrong, which I lack for my direction,
And must pursue but what a plain heart teaches.
And now you know me.
Bel. Have you finished?
Arb. Yes —
With you.
Bel. And would, perhaps, betray as well
As quit me?
Arb. That’s a sacerdotal thought,
And not a soldier’s.
Bel. Be it what you will —
Truce with these wranglings, and but hear me.
Arb. No —
There is more peril in your subtle spirit
Than in a phalanx.
Bel. If it must be so —
I’ll on alone.
Arb. Alone!
Bel. Thrones hold but one. 390
Arb. But this is filled.
Bel. With worse than vacancy —
A despised monarch. Look to it, Arbaces:
I have still aided, cherished, loved, and urged you;
Was willing even to serve you, in the hope
To serve and save Assyria. Heaven itself
Seemed 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 — 400
Or one or both — for sometimes both are one;
And if I win — Arbaces is my servant.
Arb. Your servant!
Bel. Why not? better than be slave,
The pardoned slave of she Sardanapalus!
Enter Pania.
Pan. My Lords, I bear an order from the king.
Arb. It is obeyed ere spoken.
Bel. Notwithstanding,
Let’s hear it.
Pan. Forthwith, on this very night,
Repair to your respective satrapies
Of Babylon and Media.
Bel. With our troops?
Pan. My order is unto the Satraps and 410
Their household train.
Arb. But — —
Bel. It must be obeyed:
Say, we depart.
Pan. My order is to see you
Depart, and not to bear your answer.
Bel. (aside). Aye!
Well, Sir — we will accompany you hence.
Pan. I will retire to marshal forth the guard
Of honour which befits your rank, and wait
Your leisure, so that it the hour exceeds not.
[Exit Pania.
Bel. Now then obey!
Arb. Doubtless.
Bel. Yes, to the gates
That grate the palace, which is now our prison —
No further.
Arb. Thou hast harped the truth indeed! 420
The realm itself, in all its wide extension,
Yawns dungeons at each step for thee and me.
Bel. Graves!
Arb. If I thought so, this good sword should dig
One more than mine.
Bel. It shall have work enough.
Let me hope better than thou augurest;
At present, let us hence as best we may.
Thou dost agree with me in understanding
This order as a sentence?
Arb. Why, what other
Interpretation should it bear? it is
The very policy of Orient monarchs — 430
Pardon and poison — favours and a sword —
A distant voyage, and an eternal sleep.
How many Satraps in his father’s time —
For he I own is, or at least was, bloodless —
Bel. But will not — can not be so now.
Arb. I doubt it.
How many Satraps have
I seen set out
In his Sire’s day for mighty Vice-royalties,
Whose tombs are on their path! I know not how,
But they all sickened by the way, it was
So long and heavy.
Bel. Let us but regain 440
The free air of the city, and we’ll shorten
The journey.
Arb.’Twill be shortened at the gates,
It may be.
Bel. 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.
Arb. If I but thought he did not mean my life —
Bel. Fool! hence — what else should despotism alarmed 450
Mean? Let us but rejoin our troops, and march.
Arb. Towards our provinces?
Bel. 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!
Arb. And I even yet repenting must
Relapse to guilt!
Bel. Self-defence is a virtue,
Sole bulwark of all right. Away, I say!
Let’s leave this place, the air grows thick and choking,
And the walls have a scent of night-shade — hence!
Let us not leave them time for further council. 460
Our quick departure proves our civic zeal;
Our quick departure hinders our good escort,
The worthy Pania, from anticipating
The orders of some parasangs from hence:
Nay, there’s no other choice, but — — hence, I say.
[Exit with Arbaces, who follows reluctantly.
Enter Sardanapalus and Salemenes.
Sar. Well, all is remedied, and without bloodshed,
That worst of mockeries of a remedy;
We are now secure by these men’s exile.
Sal. Yes,
As he who treads on flowers is from the adder
Twined round their roots.
Sar. Why, what wouldst have me do? 470
Sal. Undo what you have done.
Sar. Revoke my pardon?
Sal. Replace the crown now tottering on your temples.
Sar. That were tyrannical.
Sal. But sure.
Sar. 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 listened to.
Sar. Nay, I have listened
Impartially to thee — why not to them?
Sal. You may know that hereafter; as it is,
I take my leave to order forth the guard.
Sar. And you will join us at the banquet?
Sal. Sire, 480
Dispense with me — I am no wassailer:
Command me in all service save the Bacchant’s.
Sar. Nay, but ‘tis fit to revel now and then.
Sal. And fit that some should watch for those who revel
Too oft. Am I permitted to depart?
Sar. Yes — — Stay a moment, my good Salemenes,
My brother — my best subject — better Prince
Than I am King. You should have been the monarch,
And I — I know not what, and care not; but
Think not I am insensible to all 490
Thine honest wisdom, and thy rough yet kind,
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
The advice was sound; but, let them live: we will not
Cavil about their lives — so let them mend them.
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. 500
Still let them be made quiet.
Sar. Tempt me not;
My word is past.
Sal. But it may be recalled.
Sar. ‘Tis royal.
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.
Sar. And who persuaded me
After I had repealed them, or at least
Only dismissed them from our presence, who
Urged me to send them to their satrapies?
Sal. True; that I had forgotten; that is, Sire, 510
If they e’er reached their Satrapies — why, then,
Reprove me more for my advice.
Sar. And if
They do not reach them — look to it! — in safety,
In safety, mark me — and security —
Look to thine own.
Sal. Permit me to depart;
Their safety shall be cared for.
Sar. Get thee hence, then;
And, prithee, think more gently of thy brother.
Sal. Sire, I shall ever duly serve my sovereign.
[Exit Salemenes.
Sar. (solus). That man is of a temper too severe;
Hard but as lofty as the rock, and free 520
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 erred 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 count its throbs, not quicken them, and ask
Questions which mortal never dared to ask me, 530
Nor Baal, though an oracular deity —
Albeit his marble face majestical
Frowns as the shadows of the evening dim
His brows to changed expression, till at times
I think the statue looks in act to speak.
Away with these vain thoughts, I will be joyous —
And here comes Joy’s true herald.
Enter Myrrha.
Myr. King! the sky
Is overcast, and musters muttering thunder,
In clouds that seem approaching fast, and show
In forkéd flashes a commanding tempest. 540
Will you then quit the palace?
Sar. Tempest, say’st thou?
Myr. Aye, my good lord.
Sar. 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?
Myr. In my own country we respect their voices
As auguries of Jove.
Sar. Jove! — aye, your Baal —
Ours also has a property in thunder, 550
And ever and anon some falling bolt
Proves his divinity, — and yet sometimes
Strikes his own altars.
Myr. That were a dread omen.
Sar. Yes — for the priests. Well, we will not go forth
Beyond the palace walls to-night, but make
Our feast within.
Myr. Now, Jove be praised! that he
Hath heard the prayer thou wouldst not hear. The Gods
Are kinder to thee than thou to thyself,
>
And flash this storm between thee and thy foes,
To shield thee from them.
Sar. Child, if there be peril, 560
Methinks it is the same within these walls
As on the river’s brink.
Myr. Not so; these walls
Are high and strong, and guarded. Treason has
To penetrate through many a winding way,
And massy portal; but in the pavilion
There is no bulwark.
Sar. No, nor in the palace,
Nor in the fortress, nor upon the top
Of cloud-fenced Caucasus, where the eagle sits
Nested in pathless clefts, if treachery be:
Even as the arrow finds the airy king, 570
The steel will reach the earthly. But be calm;
The men, or innocent or guilty, are
Banished, and far upon their way.
Myr. They live, then?
Sar. So sanguinary? Thou!
Myr. I would not shrink
From just infliction of due punishment
On those who seek your life: were’t otherwise,
I should not merit mine. Besides, you heard
The princely Salemenes.
Sar. This is strange;
The gentle and the austere are both against me,
And urge me to revenge.
Myr.’Tis a Greek virtue. 580
Sar. But not a kingly one — I’ll none on’t; or
If ever I indulge in’t, it shall be
With kings — my equals.
Myr. These men sought to be so.
Sar. Myrrha, this is too feminine, and springs
From fear — —
Myr. For you.
Sar. No matter, still ‘tis fear.
I have observed your sex, once roused to wrath,
Are timidly vindictive to a pitch
Of perseverance, which I would not copy.
I thought you were exempt from this, as from
The childish helplessness of Asian women. 590
Myr. 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
To be beloved on trust for what I feel,
Rather than prove it to you in your griefs,
Which might not yield to any cares of mine.
Sar. Grief cannot come where perfect love exists,
Except to heighten it, and vanish from 600
That which it could not scare away. Let’s in —
The hour approaches, and we must prepare
To meet the invited guests who grace our feast.
[Exeunt.
ACT III
Scene I. — The Hall of the Palace illuminated — Sardanapalus and his Guests at Table. — A storm without, and Thunder occasionally heard during the Banquet.
Sar. Fill full! why this is as it should be: here