soldier

Who gave me water in his helmet?

One of the Guards. Slain, sire! An arrow pierced his brain, while, scattering The last drops from his helm, he stood in act To place it on his brows.

Sard. Slain! unrewarded! And slain to serve my thirst: that's hard, poor slave!

Had he but lived, I would have gorged him with

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.

Sal. And that bandage, sire,

Which girds your arm?

Sard. A scratch from brave Beleses. Myrrha. Oh! he is wounded! Sard. Not too much of that; And yet it feels a little stiff and painful, Now I am cooler.

Myrrha. You have bound it withSard. The fillet of my diadem: the first time

That ornament was ever aught to me
Save an incumbrance.

Myrrha (to the Attendants).
speedily

Summon

A leech of the most skilful: pray, retire; I will unbind your wound and tend it.

Sard. Do so,

clash,

Jarr'd but not drown'd by the loud battling; her

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,
Come down to hail us hers.

Sal. (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.

Sard. That's true, too; but I must not think of it.

Sal. 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.

Sard. Be it so.

Sal. (in retiring) Myrrha!
Myrrha. Prince!

Sal. You have shown a soul to-night, Which, were he not my sister's lordBut now

I have no time: thou lov'st the king?
Myrrha. I love
Sardanapalus.

Sal. But wouldst have him king still?
Myrrha. I would not have him less than

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.

Sard. 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. 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,

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.
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

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
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.
Sard. (awakening) Not so-although ye
multiplied the stars,
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;
Once bloody mortals-and now bloodier
idols,

If your priests lie not! And thou, ghastly

beldame!

Rather to sleep again.

Sard. Not now--I would not Dream; though I know it now to be a dream What I have dreamt:- and canst thou bear to hear it?

Myrrha. I can bear all things, dreams of life or death, Which I participate with you, in semblance Or full reality.

Sard. And this look'd real,

Sard. I saw, that is, I dream'd myself Here-here- even where we are, guests as

we were,

Myself a host that deem'd himself but guest, Willing to equal all in social freedom; But, on my right hand and my left, instead Of thee and Zames, and our custom'd meeting,

Was ranged on my left hand a haughty, dark, And deadly face-I could not recognize it, Yet I had seen it, though I knew not where; The features were a giant's, and the eye Was still, yet lighted ; his long locks curl'd down

On his vast bust, whence a huge quiver rose With shaft-heads feather'd from the eagle's wing,

That peep'd up bristling through his serpent-hair.

I invited him to fill the cup which stood Between us, but he answer'd not I fill'd itHe took it not, but stared upon me, till I trembled at the fix'd glare of his eye: 1 frown'd upon him as a king should frown He frown'd not in his turn, but look'd upon me

With the same aspect, which appall'd me

more,

Because it changed not, and I turn'd for refuge

To milder guests, and sought them on the right,

Where thou wert wont to be. But

[He pauses.

Myrrha. What instead? Sard. In thy own chair-thy own place in the banquet—

I sought thy sweet face in the circle - but Instead-a gray-hair'd, wither'd, bloodyeyed,

And bloody-handed, ghastly, ghostly thing,
Female in garb, and crown'd upon the brow,
Furrow'd with years, yet sneering with the
passion

Of vengeance, lecring too with that of lust,
Sate:- my veins curdled.
Myrrha. Is this all?
Sard. Upon

Her right hand-her lank, bird-like right hand-stood

A goblet, bubbling o'er with blood; and on Her left, another, fill'd with what I saw

Till I grew stone, as they seem'd half to be,
Yet breathing stone, for 1 felt life in them,
And life in me: there was a horrid kind
Of sympathy between us, as if they
Had lost a part of death to come to me,
And I the half of life to sit by them.
We were in an existence all apart
From heaven or earth-And rather let me see
Death all than such a being!

Myrrha. And the end?

Sard. At last I sate marble as they, when

rose

The hunter, and the crew; and smiling

on me

Yes, the enlarged but noble aspect of
The hunter smiled upon me--I should say,
His lips, for his eyes moved not- and the

woman's

Thin lips relax'd to something like a smile. Both rose, and the crown'd figures on each hand

Rose also, as if aping their chief shadesMere mimics even in death-but I sate still: A desperate courage crept through every limb,

And at the last I fear'd them not, but laugh'd.

Full in their phantom-faces. But thenthen

The hunter laid his hand on mine: I took it,
And grasp'd it- but it melted from my own,
While he too vanish'd, and left nothing but
The memory of a hero, for he look'd so.
Myrrha. And was the ancestor of
heroes, too,
And thine no less.

Sard. Ay, Myrrha, but the woman, The female who remain'd, she flew upon me, And burnt my lips up with her noisome

kisses,

In lieu of her remote descendant, I
Had been the son who slew her for her incest.
Then then a chaos of all-loathsome things
Throng'd thick and shapeless: I was dead,
yet feeling-
Buried, and raised again-consumed by

worms,

Purged by the flames, and wither'd in the air! I can fix nothing further of my thoughts, Save that I long'd for thee, and sought for thee,

In all these agonies, and woke and found thee.

Enter SALEMENES.

Sal. Is the king so soon awake?

Sard. Yes, brother, and I would 1 had not slept;

For all the predecessors of our line
Rose up, methought, to drag me down to them.
My father was amongst them, too; but he,
I know not why, kept from me, leaving me |
Between the hunter-founder of our race,
And her, the homicide and husband-killer,
Whom you call glorious.

Sal. So I term you also,
Now you have shown a spirit like to hers.
By day-break I propose that we set forth,
And charge once more the rebel-crew, who
still

Keep gathering head, repulsed, but not quite quell'd.

Sard. How wears the night? Sal. There yet remain some hours Of darkness: use them for your further rest. Sard. No, not to-night, if 'tis not gone: methought

I pass'd hours in that vision.

Myrrha. Scarcely one;

I watch'd by you: it was a heavy hour,
But an hour only.

Sard. Let us then hold council;
To-morrow we set forth.

Sal. But ere that time,

I had a grace to seek.

Sard. Tis granted.

Sal. Hear it

Ere you reply too readily; and 'tis
For your ear only.

Myrrha. Prince, I take my leave.
[Exit Myrrha.
Sal. That slave deserves her freedom.
Sard. Freedom only?

That slave deserves to share a throne.

Sal. Your patience

Tis not yet vacant, and 'tis of its partner I come to speak with you.

Sard. How! of the queen?

Sal. Even so. I judged it fitting for their safety,

That, ere the dawn, she sets forth with her children

For Paphlagonia, where our kinsman Cotta Governs; and there at all events secure My nephews and your sons their lives, and with them

Their just pretensions to the crown, in case

Sard. I perish-as is probable: well
thought-

Let them set forth with a sure escort.
Sal. That

Is all provided, and the galley ready
To drop down the Euphrates; but ere they
Depart, will you not see-

Sard. My sons? It may

Unman my heart, and the poor boys will weep;

And what can I reply to comfort them, Save with some hollow hopes, and ill-worn smiles?

You know I cannot feign.

Sal. But you can feel;

At least, I trust so: in a word, the queen Requests to see you ere you part - for ever. Sard. Unto what end? what purpose? I will grant

Aught—all that she can ask-but such a meeting.

Sal. You know, or ought to know,

enough of women,

Since you have studied them so steadily,
That what they ask in aught that touches on
The heart, is dearer to their feelings or
Their fancy, than the whole external world.
I think as you do of my sister's wish;
But 'twas her wish-she is my sister-you
Her husband-will you grant it?
Sard. 'Twill be useless:
But let her come.

Sal. I go.

[Exit Salemenes. Sard. We have lived asunder Too long to meet again—and now to meet! Have I not cares enow, and pangs enow, To bear alone, that we must mingle sorrows, Who have ceased to mingle love?

Re-enter SALEMENES and ZARINA. Sal. My sister! Courage:

Shame not our blood with trembling, but remember

From whence we sprung. The queen is present, sire.

Zarina. I pray thee, brother, leave me. Sal. Since you ask it. [Erit Salemenes. Zarina. Alone with him! How many a

year has past,

Though we are still so young, since we have met,

Which I have worn in widowhood of heart. He loved me not: yet he seems little changed

Changed to me only-would the change were mutual!

He speaks not-scarce regards me-not a

word

Nor look—yet he was soft of voice and aspect,
Indifferent, not austere. My lord!
Sard. Zarina!

Zarina. No, not Zarina – do not sayZarina. That tone-that word annihilate long years,

And things which make them longer.