The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 6

_Myr._ Ask of the G.o.ds thy fathers.

_Sar._ They cannot answer; when the priests speak for them, 'Tis for some small addition to the temple.

_Myr._ Look to the annals of thine Empire's founders.

_Sar._ They are so blotted o'er with blood, I cannot.

But what wouldst have? the Empire _has been_ founded.

I cannot go on multiplying empires. 550

_Myr._ Preserve thine own.

_Sar._ At least, I will enjoy it.

Come, Myrrha, let us go on to the Euphrates: The hour invites, the galley is prepared, And the pavilion, decked for our return, In fit adornment for the evening banquet, Shall blaze with beauty and with light, until It seems unto the stars which are above us Itself an opposite star; and we will sit Crowned with fresh flowers like----

_Myr._ Victims.

_Sar._ No, like sovereigns, The Shepherd Kings of patriarchal times, 560 Who knew no brighter gems than summer wreaths,[h]

And none but tearless triumphs. Let us on.

_Enter_ PANIA.

_Pan._ May the King live for ever!

_Sar._ Not an hour Longer than he can love. How my soul hates This language, which makes life itself a lie, Flattering dust with eternity.[i] Well, Pania!

Be brief.

_Pan._ I am charged by Salemenes to Reiterate his prayer unto the King, That for this day, at least, he will not quit The palace: when the General returns, 570 He will adduce such reasons as will warrant His daring, and perhaps obtain the pardon Of his presumption.

_Sar._ What! am I then cooped?

Already captive? can I not even breathe The breath of heaven? Tell prince Salemenes, Were all a.s.syria raging round the walls In mutinous myriads, I would still go forth.

_Pan._ I must obey, and yet----

_Myr._ Oh, Monarch, listen.-- How many a day and moon thou hast reclined Within these palace walls in silken dalliance, 580 And never shown thee to thy people's longing; Leaving thy subjects' eyes ungratified, The satraps uncontrolled, the G.o.ds unwors.h.i.+pped, And all things in the anarchy of sloth, Till all, save evil, slumbered through the realm!

And wilt thou not now tarry for a day,-- A day which may redeem thee? Wilt thou not Yield to the few still faithful a few hours, For them, for thee, for thy past fathers' race, And for thy sons' inheritance?

_Pan._ 'Tis true! 590 From the deep urgency with which the Prince Despatched me to your sacred presence, I Must dare to add my feeble voice to that Which now has spoken.

_Sar._ No, it must not be.

_Myr._ For the sake of thy realm!

_Sar._ Away!

_Pan._ For that Of all thy faithful subjects, who will rally Round thee and thine.

_Sar._ These are mere fantasies: There is no peril:--'tis a sullen scheme Of Salemenes, to approve his zeal, And show himself more necessary to us. 600

_Myr._ By all that's good and glorious take this counsel.

_Sar._ Business to-morrow.

_Myr._ Aye--or death to-night.

_Sar._ Why let it come then unexpectedly, 'Midst joy and gentleness, and mirth and love; So let me fall like the plucked rose!--far better Thus than be withered.

_Myr._ Then thou wilt not yield, Even for the sake of all that ever stirred A monarch into action, to forego A trifling revel.

_Sar._ No.

_Myr._ Then yield for _mine_; For my sake!

_Sar._ Thine, my Myrrha!

_Myr._ 'Tis the first 610 Boon which I ever asked a.s.syria's king.

_Sar._ That's true, and, wer't my kingdom, must be granted.

Well, for thy sake, I yield me. Pania, hence!

Thou hear'st me.

_Pan._ And obey. [_Exit_ PANIA.

_Sar._ I marvel at thee.

What is thy motive, Myrrha, thus to urge me?

_Myr._ Thy safety; and the certainty that nought Could urge the Prince thy kinsman to require Thus much from thee, but some impending danger.

_Sar._ And if I do not dread it, why shouldst thou?

_Myr._ Because _thou_ dost not fear, I fear for _thee_. 620

_Sar._ To-morrow thou wilt smile at these vain fancies.

_Myr._ If the worst come, I shall be where none weep, And that is better than the power to smile.

And thou?

_Sar._ I shall be King, as heretofore.

_Myr._ Where?

_Sar._ With Baal, Nimrod, and Semiramis, Sole in a.s.syria, or with them elsewhere.

Fate made me what I am--may make me nothing-- But either that or nothing must I be: I will not live degraded.

_Myr._ Hadst thou felt Thus always, none would ever dare degrade thee. 630

_Sar._ And who will do so now?

_Myr._ Dost thou suspect none?