For an especial banquet; at the hour
Of midnight we will sup there: see nought wanting
And bid the gallery be prepared. There is
A cooling breeze which crisps the broad clear river
We will embark anon. Fair nymphs, who deign
To share the soft hours of Sardanapalus,
Salemenes, (solus.) HE hath wrong'd his queen, We'll meet again in that the sweetest hour,
but still he is her lord;
When we shall gather like the stars above us,
And you will form a heaven as bright as theirs
He hath wrong'd my sister, still he is my brother;
He hath wrong'd his people, still he is their sov-Till then, let each be mistress of her time,
And I must be his friend as well as subject:
He must not perish thus. I will not see
The blood of Nimrod and Semiramis
Sink in the earth, and thirteen hundred
Of empire ending like a shepherd's tale;
He must be roused. In his effeminate heart
There is a careless courage which corruption
Has not all quench'd, and latent energies,
Repress'd by circumstance, but not destroy'd-
Steep'd, but not drown'd, in deep voluptuousness.
If born a peasant, he had been a man
To have reach'd an empire; to an empire born,
He will bequeath none; nothing but a name,
Which his sons will not prize in heritage :-
Yet, not all lost, even yet he may redeem
His sloth and shame, by only being that
Which he should be, as easily as the thing
He should not be and is. Were it less toil
To sway his nations than consume his life?
To head an army than to rule a harem ?
He sweats in palling pleasures, dulls his soul,
And saps his goodly strength, in toils which yield
Health like the chase, nor glory like the war-
He must be roused. Alas! there is no sound
[Sound of soft music heard from within.
To rouse him short of thunder. Hark! the lute,
The lyre, the timbrel; the lascivious tinklings
Of lulling instruments, the softening voices
Of women, and of beings less than women,
Must chime in to the echo of his revel,
While the great king of all we know of earth
Lolls crown'd with roses, and his diadem
Lies negligently by to be caught up
By the first manly hand which dares to snatch it.
Lo, where they come! already I perceive
The reeking odors of the perfumed trains,
And see the bright gems of the glittering girls,
At once his chorus and his council, flash
Along the gallery, and amidst the damsels,
As femininely garb'd, and scarce less female,
The grandson of Semiramis, the man-queen.
He comes! Shall I await him? yes, and front him,
And tell him what all good men tell each other,
Speaking of him and his. They come, the
Led by the monarch subject to his slaves.
And thou, my own Ionian Myrrha,1 choose,
Wilt thou along with them or me?
Sar. My lord, my life! why answereth thou sc
Thy own sweet will shall be the only barrier
Which ever rises betwixt thee and me.
Myr. I think the present is the wonted hour
Of council; it were better I retire.
Sal. (comes forward and says,) The Ionian slave
says well; let her retire.
Sar. Who answers? How now, brother?
Sal.
The queen's brother,
And your most faithful vassal, royal lord.
Sar. (addressing his train.) As I have said, let
all dispose their hours
Till midnight, when again we pray your presence.
(To MYRRHA, who is going.)
thou wouldst remain.
[The court retiring. Myrrha! I thought
But thou lookedst it;
I know each glance of those Ionic eyes,
Which said thou wouldst not leave me.
Myr.
Sire! your brother-
Sal. His consort's brother, minion of Ionia!
How darest thou name me and not blush?
Sar.
Not blush!
Thou hast no more eyes than heart to make her
crimson
slaves,Like to the dying day on Caucasus,
Where sunset tints the snow with rosy shadows,
And then reproach her with thine own cold blind-
Which will not see it. What, in tears, my Myrrha?
Sal. Let them flow on; she weeps for more than
Enter SARDANAPALUS effeminately dressed, his
head crowned with flowers, and his robe negligently | And is herself the cause of bitterer tears.
flowing, attended by a train of women and young
slaves.
Sar. (speaking to some of his attendants.) Let the pavilion over the Euphrates
Be garlar.ded, and lit, and furnish'd forth
Sar. Cursed be he who caused those tears to flow!
Sal. Curse not thyself-millions do that already.
Sar. Thou dost forget thee: make me not
remember
Which I would urge thee. O that I could rouse Beyond them, 'tis but to some mountain palace,
Though 'twere against myself.
By the god Baal:
The man would make me tyrant.
Sal.
So thou art.
Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that
Of blood and chains? the despotism of vice-
The weakness and the wickedness of luxury-
The negligence-the apathy-the evils
Of sensual sloth-produce ten thousand tyrants,
Whose delegated cruelty surpasses
The worst acts of one energetic master,
However harsh and hard in his own bearing.
The false and fond examples of thy lusts
Corrupt no less than they oppress, and sap
In the same moment all thy pageant power
And those who should sustain it; so that whether
A foreign foe invade, or civil broil
Distract within, both will alike prove fatal :
The first thy subjects have no heart to conquer;
The last they rather would assist than vanquish.
Sar. Why what makes thee the mouth-piece of
the people?
Till summer heats wear down. O glorious Baal!
Who built up this vast empire, and wert made
A god, or at the least shinest like a god
Through the long centuries of thy renown,
This, thy presumed descendant, ne'er beheld
As king the kingdoms thou didst leave as hero,
Won with thy blood, and toil, and time, and peril!
For what? to furnish imposts for a revel,
Or multiplied extortions for a minion.
Sar. I understand thee-thou wouldst have me go Forth as a conqueror. By all the stars
Which the Chaldeans read-the restless slaves Deserve that I should curse them with their wishes, And lead them forth to glory.
Sal. Forgiveness of the queen, my sister's wrongs; Left she behind in India to the vultures?
A natural love unto my infant nephews;
Faith to the king, a faith he may need shortly,
In more than words; respect for Nimrod's line;
Also, another thing thou knowest not.
Sal. Our annals say not. Sar. Then I will say for themThat she had better woven within her palace Some twenty garments, than with twenty guards Have fled to Bactria, leaving to the ravens, And wolves, and men-the fiercer of the three, Her myriads of fond subjects. Is this glory? Then let me live in ignominy ever.
Sal. All warlike spirits have not the same fate. Semiramis, the glorious parent of
A hundred kings, although she fail'd in India,
Brought Persia, Media, Bactria, to the realm
Which she once sway'd-and thou might'st sway.
Sar.
I sway them-
She but subdued them.
Sal.
Sal. Even from the winds, if thou couldst listen That they will need her sword more than your Unto the echoes of the nation's voice.
Sar. Come, I'm indulgent, as thou knowest,
Sar. There was a certain Bacchus, was there not?
I've heard my Greek girls speak of such-they say
As thou hast often proved-speak out, what moves He was a god, that is, a Grecian god,
thee?
Sal. Thy peril.
An idol foreign to Assyria's worship,
Who conquer'd this same golden realm of Ind
Thou prat'st of, where Semiramis was vanquish'd.
Sal. I have heard of such a man; and thou
perceiv'st
That he is deem'd a god for what he did.
Sar. And in his godship I will honor him-
A king. Not much as man. What ho! my cupbearer!
She has all power and splendor of her station, To worship your new god Respect, the tutelage of Assyria's heirs,
Sal. What means the king?
Sar.
And ancient conqueror. Some wine, I say.
The homage and the appanage of sovereignty.
I married her as monarchs wed-for state,
And loved her as most husbands love their wives.
Sar. (addressing the Cupbearer.) Bring me the If she or thou supposedst I could link me
golden goblet thick with gems,
Which bears the name of Nimrod's chalice. Hence!
Fill full, and bear it quickly. [Exit Cupbearer.
Sal.
Is this moment
A fitting one for the resumption of
Thy yet unslept-off revels?
Re-enter Cupbearer, with wine.
Sar. (taking the cup from him.) Noble kinsman,
If these barbarian Greeks of the far shores
And skirts of these our realms lie not, this Bacchus
Conquered the whole of India, did he not?
Sal. He did, and thence was deem'd a deity.
Sar. Not so:-of all his conquests a few columns
Which may be his, and might be mine, if I
Like a Chaldean peasant to his mate,
He knew nor me, nor monarchs, nor mankind.
Sal. I pray thee, change the theme: my blood
disdains
Complaint, and Salemenes' sister seeks not
Reluctant love even from Assyria's lord!
Nor would she deign to accept divided passion
With foreign strumpets and Ionian slaves.
The queen is silent.
Sar.
And why not her brother?
Sal. I only echo thee the voice of empires,
Which he who long neglects not long will govern.
Sar. The ungrateful and ungracious slaves! they
Because I have not shed their blood, nor led them
Thought them worth purchase and conveyance, are To dry into the desert's dust by myriads,
The landmarks of the seas of gore he shed,
The realms he wasted, and the hearts he broke.
But here, here in this goblet is the title
To immortality-the immortal grape
From which he first express'd the soul, and gave
To gladden that of man, as some atonement
For the victorious mischiefs he had done.
Had it not been for this, he would have been
A mortal still in name as in his grave;
And, like my ancestor Semiramis,
A sort of semi-glorious human monster.
Here's that which deified him-let it now
Humanize thee; my surly, chiding brother,
Pledge me to the Greek god!
Sal.
For all thy realms
I would not so blaspheme our country's creed.
Sar. That is to say, thou thinkest him a hero,
That he shed blood by oceans; and no god,
Because he turn'd a fruit to an enchantment,
Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires
The young, makes Weariness forget his toil,
And Fear her danger; opens a new world
Or whiten with their bones the banks of Ganges;
Nor decimated them with savage laws,
Nor sweated them to build up pyramids,
Or Babylonian walls.
Sal.
Yet these are trophies
More worthy of a people and their prince
Than songs, and lutes, and feasts, and concubines,
And lavish'd treasures, and contemned virtue.
Sar. Or for my trophies I have founded cities:
There's Tarsus and Anchialus, both built
In one day-what could that blood-loving beldame,
My martial grandam, chaste Semiramis,
Do more, except destroy them?
I own thy merit in those founded cities,
Built for a whim, recorded with a verse
Which shames both them and thee to coming ages.
Sar. Shame me! By Baal, the cities, though well
Are not more goodly than the verse! Say what
Thou wilt 'gainst me, my mode of life and rule,
But nothing 'gainst the truth of that brief record.
When this, the present, palls. Well, then I pledge Why, those few lines contain the history
And him as a true man, who did his utmost
In good or evil to surprise mankind.
Sal. Wilt thou resume a revel at this hour?
Sar. And if I did, 'twere better than a trophy,
Being bought without a tear. But that is not
My present purpose: since thou wilt not pledge me,
Continue what thou pleasest.
(To the Cupbearer.)
[Exit Cupbearer. Sal. I would but have recall'd thee from thy dream: Better by me awaken'd than rebellion.
Of all things human; hear-"Sardanapalus,
The king, and son of Anacyndaraxes,
In one day built Anchialus and Tarsus.
Eat, drink, and love; the rest's not worth a fillip."
Sal. A worthy moral, and a wise inscription,
For a king to put up before his subjects!
Sar. Oh, thou wouldst have me doubtless set up
edicts-
"Obey the king-contribute to his treasure-
Recruit his phalanx-spill your blood at bidding--
Fall down and worship, or get up and toil."
Or thus-" Sardanapalus on this spot
Sar. Who should rebel? or why? what cause? Slew fifty thousand of his enemies.
I am the lawful king, descended from
A race of kings who knew no predecessors.
What have I done to thee, or to the people,
That thou shouldst rail, or they rise up against me?
Sal. Of what thou hast done to me, I speak not.
Sar.
But
Thou think'st that I have wrong'd the queen: is't
not so ?
Sal. Think! Thou hast wrong'd her!
Sar
These are their sepulchres, and this his trophy."
I leave such things to conquerors; enough
For me, if I can make my subjects feel
The weight of human misery less, and glide
Ungroaning to the tomb; I take no license
Which I deny to them. We all are men.
Sal. Thy sires have been revered as gods-
Sar.
In dust
And death, where they are neither gods nor men!
Talk not of such to me! the worms are gods:
Patience, prir.ce, and hear me. At least they banqueted upon your gods,
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