Selected Poems (131 page)

SALEMENES
:And I trust the city.

Our numbers gather; and I’ve ordered onward

A cloud of Parthians, hitherto reserved,

All fresh and fiery, to be pour’d upon them

335

In their retreat, which soon will be a flight.

SARDANAPALUS
: It is already, or at least they march’d

Faster than I could follow with my Bactrians,

Who spared no speed. I am spent: give me a seat.

SALEMENES
: There stands the throne, sire.

SARDANAPALUS
:’Tis no place to rest on,

340

For mind nor body: let me have a couch,

[
They place a seat
.]

A peasant’s stool, I care not what: so — now

I breathe more freely.

SALEMENES
:This great hour has proved

The brightest and most glorious of your life.

SARDANAPALUS
: And the most tiresome. Where’s my cupbearer?

345

Bring me some water.

SALEMENES
[
smiling
]: ’Tis the first time he Ever had such an order: even I,

Your most austere of counsellors, would now Suggest a purpler beverage.

SARDANAPALUS
:Blood – doubtless.

But there’s enough of that shed; as for wine,

350

I have learn’d to-night the price of the pure element:

Thrice have I drank of it, and thrice renew’d,

With greater strength than the grape ever gave me,

My charge upon the rebels. Where’s the soldier

Who gave me water in his helmet?

ONE OF THE GUARDS
:Slain, sire!

355

An arrow pierced his brain, while, scattering

The last drops from his helm, he stood in act

To place it on his brows.

SARDANAPALUS
:Slain! unrewarded!

And slain to serve my thirst: that’s hard, poor slave!

Had he but lived, I would have gorged him with

360

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.

SALEMENES
:And that bandage, sire,

365

Which girds your arm?

SARDANAPALUS
:A scratch from brave Beleses.

MYRRHA
: Oh! he is wounded!

SARDANAPALUS
:Not too much of that;

And yet it feels a little stiff and painful,

Now I am cooler.

MYRRHA
: You have bound it with —

SARDANAPALUS
: The fillet of my diadem: the first time

870

That ornament was ever aught to me,

Save an incumbrance.

MYRRHA [
to the Attendants
]: Summon speedily

A leech of the most skilful: pray, retire:

I will unbind your wound and tend it.

SARDANAPALUS
:Do so,

For now it throbs sufficiently: but what

375

Know’st thou of wounds? yet wherefore do I ask?

Know’st thou, my brother, where I lighted on

This minion?

SALEMENES
: Herding with the other females,

Like frighten’d antelopes.

SARDANAPALUS
:No: like the dam

Of the young lion, femininely raging,

380

(And femininely meaneth furiously,

Because all passions in excess are female,)

Against the hunter flying with her cub,

She urged on with her voice and gesture, and

Her floating hair and flashing eyes, the soldiers,

385

In the pursuit.

SALEMENES
: Indeed!

SARDANAPALUS
:You see, this night

Made warriors of more than me. I paused

To look upon her, and her kindled cheek;

Her large black eyes, that flash’d through her long hair

As it stream’d o’er her; her blue veins that rose

390

Along her most transparent brow; her nostril

Dilated from its symmetry; her lips

Apart; her voice that clove through all the din,

As a lute’s pierceth through the cymbal’s clash,

Jarr’d but not drown’d by the loud brattling; her

395

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,

400

Come down to hail us hers.

SALEMENES
[
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.

SARDANAPALUS
: That’s true, too; but I must not think of it.

405

SALEMENES
: 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.

SARDANAPALUS
:Be it so.

SALEMENES
[
in retiring
]: Myrrha!

MYRRHA
:Prince!

SALEMENES
:You have shown a soul to-night,

410

Which, were he not my sister’s lord — But now

I have no time: thou lovest the king?

MYRRHA
:I love

Sardanapalus.

SALEMENES
: But wouldst have him king still?

M
YRRHA: I would have him less than what he should be.

SALEMENES
: Well then, to have him king, and yours,

and all

415

He should, or should not be; to have him live,

Let him not sink back into luxury.

You have more power upon his spirit than

Wisdom within these walls, or fierce rebellion

Raging without: look well that he relapse not.

420

MYRRHA
: There needed not the voice of Salemenes

To urge me on to this: I will not fail.

All that a woman’s weakness can —

SALEMENES
:Is power

Omnipotent o’er such a heart as his:

Exert it wisely.

[
Exit
SALEMENES
.]

SARDANAPALUS
: Myrrha! what, at whispers

425

With my stern brother? I shall soon be jealous.

MYRRHA
[
smiling
]: You have cause, sire; for on the earth there breathes not

A man more worthy of a woman’s love –

A soldier’s trust – a subject’s reverence –

A king’s esteem – the whole woorld’s admiration!

430

SARDANAPALUS
: Praise him, but not so warmly. I must not

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.

SARDANAPALUS
: 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
[
sola, gazing
]: 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,

5

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.

10

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

15

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