SARDANAPALUS.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A HALL IN THE PALACE.

SALEMENES (Solus.)

He hath wrong'd his queen, but still he is her lord;
He hath wrong'd my sister, still he is my brother;
He hath wrong'd his people, still he is their sovereign,
And I must be his friend as well as subject:

years

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,
Represt 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 haram?

He sweats in palling pleasures, dulls his soul,
And saps his goodly strength, in toils which yield not
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 odours of the perfumed trains,
And see the bright gems of the glittering girls,
Who are his comrades and his council, flash
Along the gallery, and amidst the damsels,
As femininely garbed, 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 slaves,
Led by the monarch subject to his slaves.

SCENE II.-ENTER SARDANAPALUS EFFEMINATELY DRESSED, HIS HEAD CROWNED WITH FLOWERS, AND HIS ROBE NEGLIGENTLY FLOWING, ATTENDED BY A TRAIN OF WOMEN AND YOUNG SLAVES.

SARDANAPALUS (Speaking to some of his attendants.

Let the pavilion over the Euphrates
Be garlanded, and lit, and furnish'd forth
For an especial banquet; at the hour

Of midnight we will sup there: see nought wanting,
And bid the galley 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,

We'll meet again in that the sweetest hour,
When we shall gather like the stars above us,
And you will form a heaven as bright as theirs;
Till then, let each be mistress of her time,
And thou, my own Ionian Myrrha, choose,
Wilt thou along with them or me?

MYRRHA.

My lord

SARDANAPALUS.

My lord, my life! why answerest thou so coldly?

It is the curse of kings to be so answered.

Rule thy own hours, thou rulest mine—say, wouldst thou Accompany our guests, or charm away

The moments from me?

VOL. IV.

18

I

MYRRHA.

The king's choice is mine.

SARDANAPALUS.

pray thee say not so: my chiefest joy

Is to contribute to thine every wish.

I do not dare to breathe my own desire,

Lest it should clash with thine; for thou art still
Too prompt to sacrifice thy thoughts for others.

MYRRHA.

I would remain : I have no happiness
Save in beholding thine; yet—

SARDANAPALUS.

Yet! what YET?

Thy own sweet will shall be the only barrier
Which ever rises betwixt thee and me.

MYRRHA.

I think the present is the wonted hour
Of council; it were better I retire.

SALEMENES (Comes forward and says)-)

The Ionian slave says well, let her retire.

SARDANAPALUS.

Who answers? How now, brother?

SALEMENES.

The queen's brother,

And your most faithful vassal, royal lord.

SARDANAPALUS (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.)

Myrrha! I thought thou wouldst remain.

(The court retiring.

MYRRHA.

Great king,

Thou didst not say so.

SARDANAPALUS.

But thou lookedst it;

I know each glance of those Ionic eyes,
Which said thou wouldst not leave me.

MYRRHA.

SALEMENES.

Sire! your brother—

His consort's brother, minion of Ionia!

How darest thou name me and not blush?

SARDANAPALUS.

Not blush!

Thou hast no more eyes than heart to make her crimson Like to the dying day on Caucasus,

Where sunset tints the snow with rosy shadows,

And then reproach her with thine own cold blindness, Which will not see it. What, in tears, my Myrrha?

SALEMENES.

Let them flow on; she weeps for more than
And is herself the cause of bitterer tears.

SARDANAPALUS.

Cursed be he who caused those tears to flow!

SALEMENES.

Curse not thyself-millions do that already.

SARDANAPALUS.

one,

Thou dost forget thee: make me not remember

I am a monarch.

SALEMENES.

Would thou couldst!