Myrrha. Not so; these walls There is no bulwark. Sardan. No, nor in the palace, Nor in the fortress, nor upon the top Of cloud-fenced Caucasus, where the eagle sits The steel will reach the earthly. But be calm: They live, then? Sardan. So sanguinary? Thou! I would not shrink From just infliction of due punishment On those who seek your life: wer't otherwise, Sardan. This is strange; The gentle and the austere are both against me, Myrrha. 'Tis a Greek virtue... Sardan. But not a kingly one-I'll none on't; or If ever I indulge in't, it shall be With kings-my equals. Myrrha. These men sought to be so. Sardan. Myrrha, this is too feminine, and springs From fear Myrrha. Sardan. I have observed your sex, once roused to wrath, Of perseverance, which I would not copy. I thought you were exempt from this, as from Myrrha.. My lord, I am no boaster of my love, To find one slave more true than subject myriads ; 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. Sardan. Griefs cannot come where perfect love exists, Except to heighten it, and vanish from That which it could not scare away. Let's in-- 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. SARDANAPALUS. Fill full! Why this is as it should be: here Zames. Nor elsewhere-where the king is, pleasure sparkles. Sardan. 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? Altada. Mighty though. They were, as all thy royal line have been, Has placed his joy in peace-the sole true glory. Sardan. And pleasure, good Altada, to which glory Is but the path. What is it that we seek ? Zames. No; All hearts are happy, and all voices bless The king of peace, who holds a world in jubilee. Zames. Who dare to say so !-'Tis impossible. What cause? Sardan. Traitors they What cause? true,-fill the goblet up; We will not think of them; there are none such, Altada. Guests, to my pledge! Down on your knees, and drink a measure to [ZAMES and the Guests kneel, and exclaim— 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? Sardan. Impiety !-nay, if the sires who reign'd Before me can be gods, I'll not disgrace Their lineage. But arise, my pious friends, Hoard your devotion for the thunderer there: Altada. Both Both you must ever be by all true subjects. Sardan. Methinks the thunders still increase: it is An awful night. Myrrha. Oh yes, for those who have No palace to protect their worshippers. Sardan. 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. Better than mortals, Friends, a thought has struck me: Were there no temples, would there, think ye, be Air worshippers-that is, when it is angry, And pelting as even now? The Persian prays Yes, when the sun shines. Myrrka. And I would ask if this your palace were Would lick the dust in which the king lay low? Upon a nation whom she knows not well; The Assyrians know no pleasure but their king's, Sardan. Nay, pardon, guests, The fair Greek's readiness of speech. Altada. Pardon! sire: We honour her of all things next to thee. Zames. That! nothing but the jar Of distant portals shaken by the wind. Altada. It sounded like the clash of-hark again! No more. Myrrha, my love, hast thou thy shell in order? Enter PANIA. with his sword and garments bloody, and disordered. The Guests rise in confusion. PANIA (to the Guards.) Look to the portals; And with your best speed to the wall without, Your arms; To arms! The king's in danger. Monarch'! Excuse this haste,-'tis faith. Sardan. Pana. Speak on. It is As Salemenes fear'd; the faithless satraps Sardan. You are wounded-give some wine. Take. breath, good Pania. Pania. 'Tis nothing-a mere flesh wound. More with my speed to warn my sovereign, Than hurt in his defence. Myrrha. I am worn Well, sir, the rebels. Pania. Soon as Arbaces and Beleses reach'd To march; and on my attempt to use the power Upon their troops, who rose in fierce defiance. Pania. Sardan. Too many. Spare not of thy free speech To spare mine ears the truth. Pania. My own slight guard Were faithful-and what's left of it is still so. Myrrha. And are these all the force still faithful? Pania. No The Bactrians, now led on by Salemenes, Myrrha. Sole presence in this instance might do more Sardan. My armour there. What, ho! o o |