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And these poor soldiers who throng round you, and Will drain one draught in memory of many
Would fain die with you!
A joyous banquet past.

[SARDANAPALUS takes the cup, and after drinking and tinkling the reversed cup, as a drop falls, exclaims

Is for the excellent Beleses.
Myr.

And this libation

Why

Dwells thy mind rather upon that man's name
Than on his mate's in villany?

[The Soldiers and PANIA throng round him, kissing his hand and the hem of his robe. Sar. My best! my last friends! Let's not unman each other: part at once: All farewells should be sudden, when for ever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sands of life with tears. Hence, and be happy: trust me, I am not Now to be pitied; or far more for what Is past than present;-for the future, 'tis In the hands of the deities, if such There be I shall know soon. Farewell-Farewell. Is master-mover of his warlike puppet: [Exeunt PANIA and Soldiers. But I dismiss them from my mind.-Yet pause, Myr. These men were honest: it is comfort still My Myrrha! dost thou truly follow me, That our last looks should be on loving faces. Freely and fearlessly? Myr.

Sar. And lovely ones, my beautiful!-but hear me
If at this moment, for we now are on

The brink, thou feel'st an inward shrinking from
This leap through flame into the future, say it:
I shall not love thee less; nay, perhaps more,
For yielding to thy nature: and there's time
Yet for thee to escape hence.

Shall I light

Myr.
One of the torches that lie heaped beneath
The ever-burning lamp that burns without,
Before Baal's shrine, in the adjoining hall?
Sar. Do so. Is that thy answer?
Myr.

!

Thou shalt see. [Exit MYRRHA. Sar. (solus.) She's firm. My fathers! whom I will rejoin,

It may be, purified by death from some
Of the gross stains of too material being,
I would not leave your ancient first abode
To the defilement of usurping bondmen:
If I have not kept your inheritance

As ye bequeath'd it, this bright part of it,
Your treasure, your abode, your sacred relics
Of arms, and records, monuments, and spoils,
In which they would have revell'd, I bear with me
To you in that absorbing element,
Which most personifies the soul as leaving
The least of matter unconsumed before

Its fiery working: and the light of this
Most royal of funereal pyres shall be

Not a mere pillow form'd of cloud and flame,
A beacon in the horizon for a day,

And then a mount of ashes, but a light
To lessen ages, rebel nations, and
Voluptuous princes. Time shall quench full many
A people's records, and a hero's acts;
Sweep empire after empire, like this first
Of empires, into nothing; but even then
Shall spare this deed of mine, and hold it up
A problem few dare imitate, and none
Despise-but, it may be, avoid the life
Which led to such a consummation.

Sar.

The one

Is a mere soldier, a mere tool, a kind
Of human sword in a fiend's hand; the other

And dost thou think

A Greek girl dare not do for love, that which
An Indian widow braves for custom?
Sar.

We but await the signal.

Myr.
In sounding.
Sar.

Then

It is long

Now, farewell; one last embrace.
Myr. Embrace, but not the last; there is one more.
Sar. True, the commingling fire will mix our ashes.
Myr. And pure as is my love to thee, shall they,
Purged from the dross of earth, and earthly passion,
Mix pale with thine. A single thought yet irks me.
Sar. Say it.
Myr.

It is that no kind hand will gather
The dust of both into one urn.

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MYRRHA returns with a lighted Torch in one hand, I satiated thee with peace and joys; and this and a Cup in the other.

Myr.

Lo!

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NOTES TO SARDANAPALUS.

1.

And thou, my own Ionian Myrrha.

worth a fillip.' Supposing this version nearly exact, (for Arrian says it was not quite so,) whether the

Page 349, line 60. purpose has not been to invite to civil order a people disposed to turbulence, rather than to recom"THE Ionian name had been still more compre-mend immoderate luxury, may perhaps reasonably hensive, having included the Achaians and the be questioned. What, indeed, could be the object Baotians, who, together with those to whom it was of a king of Assyria in founding such towns in a afterwards confined, would make nearly the whole country so distant from his capital, and so divided of the Greek nation, and among the orientals it from it by an immense extent of sandy deserts and was always the general name for the Greeks."-lofty mountains, and, still more, how the inhabMilford's Greece, vol. 1. p. 199.

2.

"Sardanapalus

itants could be at once in circumstances to abandon themselves to the intemperate joys which their prince has been supposed to have recommended, is not obvious; but it may deserve observation that, in that line of coast, the southern of Lesser Asia, ruins of cities, evidently of an age after Alexander

The king, and son of Anacyndaraxes, In one day built Anchialus and Tarsus. Eat, drink, and love; the rest's not worth a fillip." yet barely named in history, at this day astonish the adventurous traveller by their magnificence and Page 351, lines 103-106. elegance. Amid the desolation which, under a "For this expedition he took not only a small singularly barbarian government, has for so many chosen body of the phalanx, but all his light troops. centuries been daily spreading in the finest countries In the first day's march he reached Anchialus, a of the globe, whether more from soil and climate, town said to have been founded by the king of or from opportunities for commerce, extraordinary Assyria, Sardanapalus. The fortifications, in their means must have been found for communities to magnitude and extent, still in Arrian's time, bore flourish there, whence it may seem that the measthe character of greatness, which the Assyrians ures of Sardanapalus were directed by juster views appear singularly to have affected in works of the than have been commonly ascribed to him: but kind. A monument representing Sardanapalus that monarch having been the last of a dynasty, was found there, warranted by an inscription in ended by a revolution, obloquy on his memory would Assyrian characters, of course in the old Assyrian follow of course from the policy of his successors language, which the Greeks, whether well or ill, and their partisans.

interpreted thus: Sardanapalus, son of Anacyn- "The inconsistency of traditions concerning Sardaraxes, in one day founded Anchialus and Tarsus. danapalus is striking in Diodorus's account of him." Eat, drink, play all other human joys are not-Mitford's Greece, vol ix. pp. 311, 312, and 313.

48

WERNER; OR, THE INHERITANCE:

A TRAGEDY.

ΤΟ

THE ILLUSTRIOUS GOETHE,

BY ONE OF HIS HUMBLEST ADMIRERS,
TRAGEDY IS DEDICATED.

THIS

PREFACE.

THE following Drama is taken entirely from the "German's Tale, Kruitzner," published many years ago in Lee's Canterbury Tales; written (I believe) by two sisters, of whom one furnished only this story and another, both of which are considered superior to the remainder of the collection. I have adopted the characters, plan, and even the language, of many parts of this story. Some of the characters are modified or altered, a few of the names changed, and one character (Ida of Stralenheim) added by myself; but in the rest the original is chiefly followed. When I was young, (about fourteen, I think,) I first read this tale, which made a deep impression upon me; and may, indeed, be said to contain the germ of much that I have since written. I am not sure that it ever was very popular; or, at any rate, its popularity has since been eclipsed by that of other great writers in the same department. But I have generally found that those who had read it, agreed with me in their estimate of the singular power of mind and conception which it developes. I should also add conception, rather than execution; for the story might, perhaps, have been developed with greater advantage. Among those whose opinions agreed with mine upon this story, I could mention some very high names; but it is not necessary, nor indeed of any use, for every one must judge according to his own feelings. I merely refer the reader to the original story, that he may see to what extent I have borrowed from it: and

|1815, (the first I ever attempted, except one at thirteen years old, called "Ulric and Ilvina," which I had sense enough to burn,) and had nearly completed an act, when I was interrupted by circumstances. This is somewhere among my papers in England; but as it has not been found, I have rewritten the first, and added the subsequent acts. The whole is neither intended, nor in any shape adapted, for the stage. February, 1822.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

Men.-WERNER.

ULRIC.

STRALENHEIM.
IDENSTEIN.

GABOR.
FRITZ.
HENRICK.
ERIC.

ARNHEIM.
MEISTER.

RODOLPH.

LUDWIG.

Women.-JOSEPHINE.
IDA STRALENHEIM.

am not unwilling that he should find much greater Scene-Partly on the Frontier of Silesia, and partly

pleasure in perusing it than the drama which is founded upon its contents.

I had begun a drama upon this tale so far back as

in Siegendorf Castle, near Prague.

Time-The Close of the Thirty Years' War.

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To me

Jos. Yes, but not to thyself: thy pace is hurried, And no one walks a chamber like to ours With steps like thine when his heart is at rest. Were it a garden, I should deem thee happy, And stepping with the bee from flower to flower; But here!

Wer. 'Tis chill; the tapestry lets through The wind to which it waves: my blood is frozen. Jos. Ah, no!

Wer. (smiling.) Why! wouldst thou have it so? Jos.

Have it a healthful current.

I would

Let it flow

Wer. Until 'tis spilt or check'd-how soon, I care not. Jos. And am I nothing in thy heart? Wer.

All-all.

Jos. Then canst thou wish for that which must break mine?

Wer. (approaching her slowly.) But for thee I had been-no matter what,

But much of good and evil; what I am,
Thou knowest; what I might or should have been,
Thou knowest not: but still I love thee, nor
Shall aught divide us.

[WERNER walks on abruptly, and then ap-
proaches Josephine.

The storm of the night,

Perhaps, affects me; I'm a thing of feelings,

And have of late been sickly, as, alas!

Thou know'st by sufferings more than mine, my love! In watching me.

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To see thee happyWer.

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Wer. Something beyond our outward sufferings (though

These were enough to gnaw into our souls)
Hath stung me oft, and, more than ever, now.
When, but for this untoward sickness, which
Seized me upon this desolate frontier, and
Hath wasted, not alone my strength, but means,
And leaves us-no! this is beyond me!-but
For this I had been happy-thou been happy-
The splendor of my rank sustain'd-my name,
My father's name-been still upheld; and, more
Than those

Jos. (abruptly.) My son-our son-our Ulric
Been clasp'd again in these long-empty arms
And all a mother's hunger satisfied.

Twelve years! he was but eight then :-beautiful
He was, and beautiful he must be no
My Ulric! my adored!

Wer.
I have been full oft
The chase of Fortune: now she hath o'ertaken
My spirit where it cannot turn at bay,-
Sick, poor, and lonely.
Jos.
Lonely my dear husband?
Wer. Or worse-involving all I love, in this
Far worse than solitude. Alone, I had died,
And all been over in a nameless grave.

Jos. And I had not outlived thee; but pray take Comfort! We have struggled long; and they who strive

With fortune win or weary her at last,
So that they find the goal or cease to feel
Further. Take comfort,-we shall find our boy
Wer. We were in sight of him, of every thing
Which could bring compensation for past sorrow
And to be baffled thus!
Jos.
We are not baffled.
Wer. Are we not pennyless?
Jos.
We ne'er were wealthy.
Wer. But I was born to wealth, and rank, and

power;

Enjoy'd them, loved them, and, alas! abused them,

Where hast thou seen such? And forfeited them by my father's wrath,

But think

Let me be wretched with the rest!
Jos.
How many in this hour of tempest shiver
Beneath the biting wind and heavy rain,
Whose every drop bows them down nearer earth,
Which hath no chamber for them save beneath
Her surface.

Wer. And that's not the worst: who cares
For chambers? rest is all. The wretches whom
Thou namestay, the wind howls round them, and
The dull and dropping rain saps in their bones
The creeping marrow. I have been a soldier,
A hunter, and a traveller, and am

A beggar, and should know the thing thou talk'st of.
Jos. And art thou not now shelter'd from them all?
Wer. Yes. And from these alone.
Jos. And that is something.

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Baffled the long pursuit of Stralenheim.

Had such been my inheritance; but now,

Wer. We should have done, but for this fatal sick- Chasten'd, subdued, out-worn, and taught to know

ness,

More fatal than a mortal malady,

Because it takes not life, but life's sole solace;
Even now I feel my spirit girt about

By the snares of this avaricious fiend ;-
How do I know he hath not track'd us here?
Jos. He does not know thy person; and his spies,
Who so long watch'd thee, have been left at Ham-
burgh.

Our unexpected journey, and this change
Of name, leave all discovery far behind:
None hold us here for aught save what we seem.
Wer. Save what we seem! save what we are sick
beggars,

Even to our very hopes.-Ha! ha!

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Jos. Your father did not think so, though 'twas I asked for something better than your name,

noble ;

But had my birth been all my claim to match
With thee, I should have deem'd it what it is.
Wer. And what is that in thine eyes?
Jos.

Has done in our behalf,-nothing.
Wer.

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Iden. Better or worse, like matrimony: what
Shall I say more? You have been a guest this month
All which it Here in the prince's palace-(to be sure,
His highness had resign'd it to the ghosts
And rats these twelve years-but 'tis still a palace)—
I say yon have been our lodger, and as yet
We do not know your name.

How,-nothing?
Jos. Or worse; for it has been a canker in
Thy heart from the beginning: but for this,
We had not felt our poverty but as
Millions of myriads feel it, cheerfully;
But for these phantoms of thy feudal fathers,
Thou mightst have earn'd thy bread, as thousands
carn it;

Or, if that seem'd too humble, tried by commerce,
Or other civic means, to amend thy fortunes,
Wer. (ironically.) And been an Hanseatic burgher?
Excellent!

Jos. Whate'er thou mightst have been, to me thou art

What no state high or low can ever change,

My heart's first choice ;-which chose thee, knowing neither

Thy birth, thy hopes, thy pride; nought, save thy

sorrows:

While they last, let me comfort or divide them; When they end, let mine end with them, or thee! Wer. My better angel! such I have ever found thee;

This rashness, or this weakness of my temper, Ne'er raised a thought to injure thee or thine. Thou didst not mar my fortunes: my own nature In youth was such as to unmake an empire,

Wer. My name is Werner. Iden. A goodly name, a very worthy name As e'er was gilt upon a trader's board: I have a cousin in the lazaretto Of Hamburgh, who has got a wife who bore The same. He is an officer of trust, Surgeon's assistant, (hoping to be surgeon,) And has done miracles i' the way of business. Perhaps you are related to my relative? Wer. To yours?

We learn his purpose? Iden.

Jos. Oh, yes; we are, but distantly. Cannot you humor the dull gossip till [Aside to WERNER. Well, I'm glad of that; I thought so long, such natural yearnings Play'd round my heart :-blood is not water, cousin, And so let's have some wine, and drink unto Our better acquaintance: relatives should be Friends.

Wer. You appear to have drank enough already; And if you had not, I've no wine to offer, Else it were yours: but this you know, or should know;

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