No More Learning

_Sar. _ And will not; but I thought you wished it.

_Myr. _ I!

_Sar. _ You spoke of your abasement.

_Myr. _ And I feel it
Deeply--more deeply than all things but love.

_Sar. _ Then fly from it.

_Myr. _ 'Twill not recall the past-- 490
'Twill not restore my honour, nor my heart.
No--here I stand or fall. If that you conquer,
I live to joy in your great triumph: should
Your lot be different, I'll not weep, but share it.
You did not doubt me a few hours ago.

_Sar. _ Your courage never--nor your love till now;
And none could make me doubt it save yourself.
Those words----

_Myr. _ Were words. I pray you, let the proofs
Be in the past acts you were pleased to praise
This very night, and in my further bearing, 500
Beside, wherever you are borne by fate.

_Sar. _ I am content: and, trusting in my cause,
Think we may yet be victors and return
To peace--the only victory I covet.
To me war is no glory--conquest no
Renown. To be forced thus to uphold my right
Sits heavier on my heart than all the wrongs[aj]
These men would bow me down with. Never, never
Can I forget this night, even should I live
To add it to the memory of others. 510
I thought to have made mine inoffensive rule
An era of sweet peace 'midst bloody annals,
A green spot amidst desert centuries,
On which the Future would turn back and smile,
And cultivate, or sigh when it could not
Recall Sardanapalus' golden reign.
I thought to have made my realm a paradise,
And every moon an epoch of new pleasures.
I took the rabble's shouts for love--the breath
Of friends for truth--the lips of woman for 520
My only guerdon--so they are, my Myrrha: [_He kisses her_.
Kiss me. Now let them take my realm and life!
They shall have both, but never _thee! _

_Myr. _ No, never!
Man may despoil his brother man of all
That's great or glittering--kingdoms fall, hosts yield,
Friends fail--slaves fly--and all betray--and, more
Than all, the most indebted--but a heart
That loves without self-love! 'Tis here--now prove it.

_Enter_ SALEMENES.

_Sal. _ I sought you--How! _she_ here again?

_Sar. _ Return not
_Now_ to reproof: methinks your aspect speaks 530
Of higher matter than a woman's presence.

_Sal. _ The only woman whom it much imports me
At such a moment now is safe in absence--
The Queen's embarked.

_Sar. _ And well? say that much.

_Sal. _ Yes.
Her transient weakness has passed o'er; at least,
It settled into tearless silence: her
Pale face and glittering eye, after a glance
Upon her sleeping children, were still fixed
Upon the palace towers as the swift galley
Stole down the hurrying stream beneath the starlight; 540
But she said nothing.

_Sar. _ Would I felt no more
Than she has said!

_Sal. _ 'Tis now too late to feel.
Your feelings cannot cancel a sole pang:
To change them, my advices bring sure tidings
That the rebellious Medes and Chaldees, marshalled
By their two leaders, are already up
In arms again; and, serrying their ranks,
Prepare to attack: they have apparently
Been joined by other Satraps.

_Sar. _ What! more rebels?
Let us be first, then.

_Sal. _ That were hardly prudent 550
Now, though it was our first intention. If
By noon to-morrow we are joined by those
I've sent for by sure messengers, we shall be
In strength enough to venture an attack,
Aye, and pursuit too; but, till then, my voice
Is to await the onset.

_Sar. _ I detest
That waiting; though it seems so safe to fight
Behind high walls, and hurl down foes into
Deep fosses, or behold them sprawl on spikes
Strewed to receive them, still I like it not-- 560
My soul seems lukewarm; but when I set on them,
Though they were piled on mountains, I would have
A pluck at them, or perish in hot blood! --
Let me then charge.

_Sal. _ You talk like a young soldier.

_Sar. _ I am no soldier, but a man: speak not
Of soldiership, I loathe the word, and those
Who pride themselves upon it; but direct me
Where I may pour upon them.

_Sal. _ You must spare
To expose your life too hastily; 'tis not
Like mine or any other subject's breath: 570
The whole war turns upon it--with it; this
Alone creates it, kindles, and may quench it--
Prolong it--end it.

_Sar. _ Then let us end both!
'Twere better thus, perhaps, than prolong either;
I'm sick of one, perchance of both.
[_A trumpet sounds without_.

_Sal. _ Hark!

_Sar. _ Let us
Reply, not listen.

_Sal. _ And your wound!

_Sar. _ 'Tis bound--
'Tis healed--I had forgotten it. Away!
A leech's lancet would have scratched me deeper;[ak]
The slave that gave it might be well ashamed
To have struck so weakly.

_Sal. _ Now, may none this hour 580
Strike with a better aim!

_Sar. _ Aye, if we conquer;
But if not, they will only leave to me
A task they might have spared their king. Upon them!
[_Trumpet sounds again_.

_Sal. _ I am with you.

_Sar. _ Ho, my arms! again, my arms!
[_Exeunt_.




ACT V.

SCENE I. -_The same Hall in the Palace_.

MYRRHA _and_ BALEA.

_Myr. _ (_at a window_)[28]
The day at last has broken. What a night
Hath ushered it! How beautiful in heaven!
Though varied with a transitory storm,
More beautiful in that variety!
How hideous upon earth! where Peace and Hope,
And Love and Revel, in an hour were trampled
By human passions to a human chaos,
Not yet resolved to separate elements--
'Tis warring still! And can the sun so rise,
So bright, so rolling back the clouds into 10
Vapours more lovely than the unclouded sky,
With golden pinnacles, and snowy mountains,
And billows purpler than the Ocean's, making
In heaven a glorious mockery of the earth,
So like we almost deem it permanent;
So fleeting, we can scarcely call it aught
Beyond a vision, 'tis so transiently
Scattered along the eternal vault: and yet
It dwells upon the soul, and soothes the soul,
And blends itself into the soul, until 20
Sunrise and sunset form the haunted epoch
Of Sorrow and of Love; which they who mark not,
Know not the realms where those twin genii[al]
(Who chasten and who purify our hearts,
So that we would not change their sweet rebukes
For all the boisterous joys that ever shook
The air with clamour) build the palaces
Where their fond votaries repose and breathe
Briefly;--but in that brief cool calm inhale
Enough of heaven to enable them to bear 30
The rest of common, heavy, human hours,
And dream them through in placid sufferance,
Though seemingly employed like all the rest
Of toiling breathers in allotted tasks[am]
Of pain or pleasure, _two_ names for _one_ feeling,
Which our internal, restless agony
Would vary in the sound, although the sense
Escapes our highest efforts to be happy.

_Bal. _ You muse right calmly: and can you so watch
The sunrise which may be our last?

_Myr. _ It is 40
Therefore that I so watch it, and reproach
Those eyes, which never may behold it more,
For having looked upon it oft, too oft,
Without the reverence and the rapture due
To that which keeps all earth from being as fragile
As I am in this form. Come, look upon it,
The Chaldee's God, which, when I gaze upon,
I grow almost a convert to your Baal.

_Bal. _ As now he reigns in heaven, so once on earth
He swayed.

_Myr. _ He sways it now far more, then; never 50
Had earthly monarch half the power and glory
Which centres in a single ray of his.

_Bal. _ Surely he is a God!

_Myr. _ So we Greeks deem too;
And yet I sometimes think that gorgeous orb
Must rather be the abode of Gods than one
Of the immortal sovereigns. Now he breaks
Through all the clouds, and fills my eyes with light
That shuts the world out. I can look no more.

_Bal. _ Hark! heard you not a sound?

_Myr. _ No, 'twas mere fancy;
They battle it beyond the wall, and not 60
As in late midnight conflict in the very
Chambers: the palace has become a fortress
Since that insidious hour; and here, within
The very centre, girded by vast courts
And regal halls of pyramid proportions,
Which must be carried one by one before
They penetrate to where they then arrived,
We are as much shut in even from the sound
Of peril as from glory.

_Bal. _ But they reached
Thus far before.

_Myr. _ Yes, by surprise, and were 70
Beat back by valour: now at once we have
Courage and vigilance to guard us.

_Bal. _ May they
Prosper!

_Myr. _ That is the prayer of many, and
The dread of more: it is an anxious hour;
I strive to keep it from my thoughts. Alas!
How vainly!

_Bal. _ It is said the King's demeanour
In the late action scarcely more appalled
The rebels than astonished his true subjects.

_Myr. _ 'Tis easy to astonish or appal
The vulgar mass which moulds a horde of slaves; 80
But he did bravely.

_Bal. _ Slew he not Beleses?
I heard the soldiers say he struck him down.

_Myr. _ The wretch was overthrown, but rescued to
Triumph, perhaps, o'er one who vanquished him
In fight, as he had spared him in his peril;
And by that heedless pity risked a crown.

_Bal. _ Hark!

_Myr. _ You are right; some steps approach, but slowly.

_Enter Soldiers, bearing in_ SALEMENES _wounded, with a
broken javelin in his side: they seat him upon one of
the couches which furnish the Apartment_.

_Myr. _ Oh, Jove!

_Bal. _ Then all is over.

_Sal. _ That is false.
Hew down the slave who says so, if a soldier.

_Myr. _ Spare him--he's none: a mere court butterfly, 90
That flutter in the pageant of a monarch.

_Sal. _ Let him live on, then.

_Myr. _ So wilt thou, I trust.

_Sal. _ I fain would live this hour out, and the event,
But doubt it. Wherefore did ye bear me here?

_Sol. _ By the King's order. When the javelin struck you,
You fell and fainted: 'twas his strict command
To bear you to this hall.

_Sal. _ 'Twas not ill done:
For seeming slain in that cold dizzy trance,
The sight might shake our soldiers--but--'tis vain,
I feel it ebbing!

_Myr. _ Let me see the wound; 100
I am not quite skilless: in my native land
'Tis part of our instruction. War being constant,
We are nerved to look on such things. [an]

_Sol. _ Best extract
The javelin.

_Myr. _ Hold! no, no, it cannot be.

_Sal. _ I am sped, then!

_Myr. _ With the blood that fast must follow
The extracted weapon, I do fear thy life.

_Sal. _ And I _not_ death. Where was the King when you
Conveyed me from the spot where I was stricken?

_Sol. _ Upon the same ground, and encouraging
With voice and gesture the dispirited troops 110
Who had seen you fall, and faltered back.

_Sal. _ Whom heard ye
Named next to the command?

_Sol. _ I did not hear.

_Sal. _ Fly, then, and tell him, 'twas my last request
That Zames take my post until the junction,
So hoped for, yet delayed, of Ofratanes,
Satrap of Susa. Leave me here: our troops
Are not so numerous as to spare your absence.

_Sol. _ But Prince----

_Sal. _ Hence, I say!
Here's a courtier and
A woman, the best chamber company.
As you would not permit me to expire 120
Upon the field, I'll have no idle soldiers
About my sick couch. Hence! and do my bidding!
[_Exeunt the Soldiers_.

_Myr. _ Gallant and glorious Spirit! must the earth
So soon resign thee?

_Sal. _ Gentle Myrrha, 'tis
The end I would have chosen, had I saved
The monarch or the monarchy by this;
As 'tis, I have not outlived them.

_Myr. _ You wax paler.

_Sal. _ Your hand; this broken weapon but prolongs
My pangs, without sustaining life enough
To make me useful: I would draw it forth 130
And my life with it, could I but hear how
The fight goes.

_Enter_ SARDANAPALUS _and Soldiers_.

_Sar. _ My best brother!

_Sal. _ And the battle
Is lost?

_Sar. _ (_despondingly_). You see _me here_.

_Sal. _ I'd rather see you _thus! _
[_He draws out the weapon from the wound, and dies_.

_Sar. _ And _thus_ I will be seen; unless the succour,
The last frail reed of our beleagured hopes,
Arrive with Ofratanes.

_Myr. _ Did you not
Receive a token from your dying brother,
Appointing Zames chief?

_Sar. _ I did.

_Myr. _ Where's Zames?

_Sar. _ Dead.

_Myr. _ And Altada?

_Sar. _ Dying.

_Myr. _ Pania? Sfero?

_Sar. _ Pania yet lives; but Sfero's fled or captive. 140
I am alone.

_Myr. _ And is all lost?

_Sar. _ Our walls,
Though thinly manned, may still hold out against
Their present force, or aught save treachery:
But i' the field----

_Myr. _ I thought 'twas the intent
Of Salemenes not to risk a sally
Till ye were strengthened by the expected succours.

_Sar. _ _I_ over-ruled him.

_Myr. _ Well, the _fault's_ a brave one.

_Sar. _ But fatal. Oh, my brother! I would give
These realms, of which thou wert the ornament,
The sword and shield, the sole-redeeming honour, 150
To call back----But I will not weep for thee;
Thou shall be mourned for as thou wouldst be mourned.
It grieves me most that thou couldst quit this life
Believing that I could survive what thou
Hast died for--our long royalty of race.
If I redeem it, I will give thee blood
Of thousands, tears of millions, for atonement,
(The tears of all the good are thine already).
If not, we meet again soon,--if the spirit
Within us lives beyond:--thou readest mine, 160
And dost me justice now. Let me once clasp
That yet warm hand, and fold that throbless heart
[_Embraces the body_.
To this which beats so bitterly. Now, bear
The body hence.

_Sol. _ Where?

_Sar. _ To my proper chamber.
Place it beneath my canopy, as though
The King lay there: when this is done, we will
Speak further of the rites due to such ashes.
[_Exeunt Soldiers with the body of_ SALEMENES.

_Enter_ PANIA.

_Sar. _ Well, Pania! have you placed the guards, and issued
The orders fixed on?

_Pan. _ Sire, I have obeyed.

_Sar. _ And do the soldiers keep their hearts up?

_Pan. _ Sire? 170

_Sar. _ I am answered! When a king asks twice, and has
A question as an answer to _his_ question,
It is a portent. What! they are disheartened?

_Pan. _ The death of Salemenes, and the shouts
Of the exulting rebels on his fall,
Have made them----

_Sar. _ _Rage_--not droop--it should have been.
We'll find the means to rouse them.

_Pan. _ Such a loss
Might sadden even a victory.

_Sar. _ Alas!
Who can so feel it as I feel? but yet,
Though cooped within these walls, they are strong, and we 180
Have those without will break their way through hosts,
To make their sovereign's dwelling what it was--
A palace, not a prison--nor a fortress.

_Enter an Officer, hastily_.

_Sar. _ Thy face seems ominous. Speak!

_Offi. _ I dare not.

_Sar. _ Dare not?
While millions dare revolt with sword in hand!
That's strange. I pray thee break that loyal silence
Which loathes to shock its sovereign; we can hear
Worse than thou hast to tell.

_Pan. _ Proceed--thou hearest.

_Offi. _ The wall which skirted near the river's brink
Is thrown down by the sudden inundation 190
Of the Euphrates, which now rolling, swoln
From the enormous mountains where it rises,
By the late rains of that tempestuous region,
O'erfloods its banks, and hath destroyed the bulwark.

_Pan. _ That's a black augury! it has been said
For ages, "That the City ne'er should yield
To man, until the River grew its foe. "

_Sar. _ I can forgive the omen, not the ravage.
How much is swept down of the wall?

_Offi. _ About
Some twenty stadia. [29]

_Sar. _ And all this is left 200
Pervious to the assailants?

_Offi. _ For the present
The River's fury must impede the assault;
But when he shrinks into his wonted channel,
And may be crossed by the accustomed barks,
The palace is their own.

_Sar. _ That shall be never.
Though men, and gods, and elements, and omens,
Have risen up 'gainst one who ne'er provoked them,
My father's house shall never be a cave
For wolves to horde and howl in.

_Pan. _ With your sanction,
I will proceed to the spot, and take such measures 210
For the assurance of the vacant space
As time and means permit.

_Sar. _ About it straight,
And bring me back, as speedily as full
And fair investigation may permit,
Report of the true state of this irruption
Of waters. [_Exeunt_ PANIA _and the Officer_.

_Myr. _ Thus the very waves rise up
Against you.

_Sar. _ They are not my subjects, girl,
And may be pardoned, since they can't be punished.

_Myr. _ I joy to see this portent shakes you not.

_Sar. _ I am past the fear of portents: they can tell me 220
Nothing I have not told myself since midnight:
Despair anticipates such things.

_Myr. _ Despair!

_Sar. _ No; not despair precisely. When we know
All that can come, and how to meet it, our
Resolves, if firm, may merit a more noble
Word than this is to give it utterance.
But what are words to us? we have well nigh done
With them and all things.

_Myr. _ Save _one deed_--the last
And greatest to all mortals; crowning act
Of all that was, or is, or is to be-- 230
The only thing common to all mankind,
So different in their births, tongues, sexes, natures,
Hues, features, climes, times, feelings, intellects,[ao]
Without one point of union save in this--
To which we tend, for which we're born, and thread
The labyrinth of mystery, called life.

_Sar. _ Our clue being well nigh wound out, let's be cheerful.
They who have nothing more to fear may well
Indulge a smile at that which once appalled;
As children at discovered bugbears.

_Re-enter_ PANIA.

_Pan. _ 'Tis 240
As was reported: I have ordered there
A double guard, withdrawing from the wall,
Where it was strongest, the required addition
To watch the breach occasioned by the waters.

_Sar. _ You have done your duty faithfully, and as
My worthy Pania! further ties between us
Draw near a close--I pray you take this key:
[_Gives a key_.
It opens to a secret chamber, placed
Behind the couch in my own chamber--(Now
Pressed by a nobler weight than e'er it bore-- 250
Though a long line of sovereigns have lain down
Along its golden frame--as bearing for
A time what late was Salemenes. )--Search
The secret covert to which this will lead you;
'Tis full of treasure;[30] take it for yourself
And your companions:[ap] there's enough to load ye,
Though ye be many. Let the slaves be freed, too;
And all the inmates of the palace, of
Whatever sex, now quit it in an hour.
Thence launch the regal barks, once formed for pleasure, 260
And now to serve for safety, and embark.
The river's broad and swoln, and uncommanded,
(More potent than a king) by these besiegers.
Fly! and be happy!

_Pan. _ Under your protection!
So you accompany your faithful guard.

_Sar. _ No, Pania! that must not be; get thee hence,
And leave me to my fate.

_Pan. _ 'Tis the first time
I ever disobeyed: but now----

_Sar. _ So all men
Dare beard me now, and Insolence within
Apes Treason from without. Question no further; 270
'Tis my command, my last command. Wilt _thou_
Oppose it? _thou! _

_Pan. _ But yet--not yet.

_Sar. _ Well, then,
Swear that you will obey when I shall give
The signal.

_Pan. _ With a heavy but true heart,
I promise.

_Sar. _ 'Tis enough. Now order here
Faggots, pine-nuts, and withered leaves, and such
Things as catch fire and blaze with one sole spark;
Bring cedar, too, and precious drugs, and spices,
And mighty planks, to nourish a tall pile;
Bring frankincense and myrrh, too, for it is 280
For a great sacrifice I build the pyre!
And heap them round yon throne.

_Pan. _ My Lord!

_Sar. _ I have said it,
And _you_ have sworn.

_Pan. _ And could keep my faith
Without a vow. [_Exit_ PANIA.

_Myr. _ What mean you?

_Sar. _ You shall know
Anon--what the whole earth shall ne'er forget.

PANIA, _returning with a Herald_.

_Pan. _ My King, in going forth upon my duty,
This herald has been brought before me, craving
An audience.

_Sar. _ Let him speak.