Pania. My order is unto the satraps and

Their household train.

My order is to see you

Ay!

Depart, and not to bear your answer.
Beleses (aside.)

Well, sir, we will accompany you hence.

Pania. 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.

Beleses. Now then obey!

Arbaces.

Beleses.

[Exit PANIA.

Doubtless.

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:

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.

Arbaces.

Why, what other

Interpretation should it bear? it is
The very policy of orient monarchs-
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-
Beleses. But will not, can not be so now.
Arbaces.
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 sicken'd by the way, it was

So long and heavy.

Beleses.

Let us but regain

The free air of the city, and we'll shorten

The journey.

Arbaces.

It may be.

Beleses.

"Twill be shorten'd at the gates,

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 lifeBeleses. 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,

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.
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.

Sardan. Well, all is remedied and without bloodshed,

That worst of mockeries of a remedy;

We are now secure by these men's exile.

Salemenes.

As he who treads on flowers is from the adder

Twined round their roots.

Sardan.

Yes,

Why, what wouldst have me do?

Salem. Undo what you have done.

Sardan.

Revoke my pardon?

Salem. Replace the crown now tottering on your temples.
Sardan. That were tyrannical.

Salem:

Sardan.

But sure.

We are so.

What danger can they work upon the frontier?

Salem. They are not there yet-never should they be so, Were I well listen'd to.

Nay, I have listen'd

Sardan,
Impartially to thee-why not to them?

Salem. You may know that hereafter; as it is,
I take my leave, to order forth the guard.

Sardan. And you will join us at the banquet?
Salem.

Dispense with me-I am no wassailer:

Sire,

Command me in all service save the Bacchant's.

Sardan. Nay, but it is fit to revel now aud then.

Salem. And fit that some should watch for those who

revel

Too oft. Am I permitted to depart?

Sardan. 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

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.

Salem.

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.

Sardan.

Tempt me not:

But it may be recall'd.

And should therefore be decisive.

Sardan. 'Tis royal.

Salem.

This half indulgence of an exile serves

But to provoke-a pardon should be full

Or it is none.

Sardan.

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 ?

Salem. True; that I had forgotten; that is, sire, If they e'er reach their satrapies: why then Reprove me more for my advice?

Sardan.

And if

They do not reach them-look to it!-in safety,
In safety, mark me-and security---

Look to thine own.

Salemenes.

Permit me to depart;

Get thee hence, then;

And, prithee, think more gently of thy brother.
Salem. Sire, I shall ever duly serve my sovereign.

[Exit SALEMENES. Sardan. (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 ask me,
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.

Myrrha.

Enter MYRRHA,

King! the sky

Is overcast, and musters muttering thunder,
In clouds that seem approaching fast, and show
In forked flashes a commanding tempest.
Will you then quit the palace?

Sardan.

Tempest, say'st thou ?
Myrrha. Ay, my good lord.
Sardan.

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.

Sardan.

Jove-ay, your Baal

Ours also has a property in thunder,
And ever and anon some falling bolt
Proves his divinity, and yet sometimes
Strikes his own altars,

Myrrha.

That were a dread omen..

Sardan. Yes, for the priests. Well, we will not go forth 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 thou to thyself,

And flash this storm between thee and thy foes,

To shield thee from them.

Sardan.

Child, if there be peril,

Methinks it is the same within these walls

As on the river's brink.