"HIS KNOWLEDGE, AND HIS POWERS, AND WILL, AS FAR AS IS COMPATIBLE WITH CLAY,-(BYRON)

"FROM DEEDS, AND DEEDS ALONE, HE MAY DISCERN- (LORD BYRON)

THE DEATH OF SARDANAPALUS.

79

But when another speaks of Greece, it wounds me.
Sard. Well then, how wouldst thou save me, as thou saidst?
Myrrha. Look to the annals of thine empire's founders !
Sard. 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.
Myrrha. Preserve thine own.

Sard.

Myrrha.

Sard.

At least I will enjoy it.
Come, Myrrha, let us 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-

Victims.

No, like sovereigns,

The shepherd kings of patriarchal times,

Who knew no brighter gems than summer wreaths,

And none but tearless triumphs. Let us on.

[From "Sardanapalus,” act i., scene iv. Had Byron oftener written in this strain I think his renown would have been wider and more permanent. Myrrha is a nobler character than the Gulnares and Medoras of his earlier works, and wrought out, as it seems to me, with equal delicacy and power. The struggle between her love for the indolent monarch, whom her quick eye recognizes as capable of nobler things, and her patriotic passion for her country, which teaches her that a Greek slave should scorn and hate her barbarian master, is painted with much vigour.]

THE DEATH OF SARDANAPALUS.

[Defeated by his rebellious subjects, Sardanapalus is driven back to his palace after an heroic resistance. He divides his treasures among his faithful followers, and forces them to embark on the river, which still provides a means of escape, only demanding, as their last service, that they

TRUTH WHICH IT WRINGS TH' UNPRACTISED HEART TO LEARN." BYRON.

WHICH CLOGS TH' ETHEREAL ESSENCE, HAVE BEEN SUCH AS CLAY HATH SELDOM BORNE."-LORD BYRON.

"O'ER THE GLAD WATERS OF THE DARK-BLUE SEA, OUR THOUGHTS AS BOUNDLESS, AND OUR SOULS AS FREE,

80

"THE POWER OF THOUGHT, THE IMAGE OF THE MIND."-BYRON.

GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON.

shall construct a pile of combustibles round the throne in the presence-
chamber, before leaving him there alone with Myrrha. They depart, and
when clear of the beleaguered city, sound their trumpets as a signal of
safety. He then prepares to die in a manner worthy of the last of the
Assyrian kings.]
Sard.

Myrrha.

Sard.
Myrrha.

EAR me!

If at this moment-for we now are on
The brink-thou feel'st an inward shrinking
from

This leap through flame into the future, say it:
I shall not love thee less; nay, perhaps more,
For yielding to thy nature; and there's time
Yet for thee to escape hence.

Shall I light

One of the torches which lie heaped beneath
The ever-burning lamp that burns without,
Before Baal's shrine, in the adjoining hall?
Do so. Is that thy answer?

Thou shalt see.

[Exit MYRRHA.

Sard. [alone] She's firm. My fathers! whom I will rejoin,

It may be, purified by death from some
Of the gross stains of too material being,
I would not leave your ancient first abode
To the defilement of usurping bondsmen;
If I have not kept your inheritance
As ye bequeathed it, this bright part of it,
Your treasure, your abode, your sacred relics
Of arms and records, monuments and spoils,
In which they would have revelled, I bear with me
To you in that absorbing element,
Which most personifies the soul as leaving
The least of matter unconsumed before
Its fiery workings; and the light of this
Most royal of funereal pyres shall be

THE MIND, THE MUSIC BREATHING FROM HER FACE."-BYRON.

FAR AS THE BREEZE CAN BEAR, THE BILLOWS FOAM, SURVEY OUR EMPIRE, AND BEHOLD OUR HOME."-BYRON.

"BUT WHO HATH SEEN, OR E'ER SHALL SEE, CLEAN AS HIMSELF, THE SECRET SPIRIT FREE!"-BYRON.

66

WHO HATH NOT PROVED HOW FEEBLY WORDS ESSAY-(BYRON)

Myrrha.

Sard.

Myrrha.

Sard.

Myrrha.

THE DEATH OF SARDANAPALUS.

Not a mere pillar formed of cloud and flame,

A beacon in the horizon for a day,

And then a mount of ashes; but a light
To lesson ages, rebel nations, and

Voluptuous princes. Time shall quench full many
A people's records, and a hero's acts;

Sweep empire after empire, like this first
Of empires, into nothing; but even then
Shall spare this deed of mine, and hold it up
A problem few dare imitate, and none
Despise-but, it may be, avoid the life
Which led to such a consummation.

81

Sard.

Then

We but await the signal.

Myrrha.

It is long

In sounding.

Sard.

Now, farewell; one last embrace.

TO FIX ONE SPARK OF BEAUTY'S HEAVENLY RAY!"-BYRON.

8

"THE MIND THAT BROODS O'ER GUILTY WOES IS LIKE THE SCORPION GIRT BY FIRE."-LORD BYRON.

"BUT IN THAT INSTANT O'ER HIS SOUL WINTERS OF MEMORY SEEMED TO ROLL, BYRON)

S2

MAN SPURNS THE WORM, BUT PAUSES ERE HE WAKE

GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON.

AND GATHER IN THAT DROP OF TIME A LIFE OF PAIN, AN AGE OF CRIME."-LORD BYRON.

["Now, farewell; one last embrace."]

Myrrha. Embrace, but not the last; there is one more.
Sard. True, the commingling fire will mix our ashes.
Myrrha. And pure as is my love to thee, shall they,

Purged from the dross of earth and earthly passion,
Mix pale with thine. A single thought yet irks me.
Sard. Say it.

Myrrha.

Sard.

It is that no kind hand will gather
The dust of both into one urn.

The better!
Rather let them be borne abroad upon
The winds of heaven, and scattered into air,
Than be polluted more by human hands

THE SLUMBERING VENOM OF THE FOLDED SNAKE!"-BYRON.

DEEDS, THOUGHTS, AND WORDS, PERHAPS REMEMBERED NOT

THE DEATH OF SARDANAPALUS.

Myrrha.

Of slaves and traitors. In this blazing palace,
And its enormous walls of reeking ruin,

We leave a nobler monument than Egypt

Hath piled in her brick mountains, o'er dead kings,
Or kine, for none know whether these proud piles
Be for their monarch or their ox-god Apis:

So much for monuments that have forgotten
Their very record!

Then farewell, thou earth!

And loveliest spot of earth! farewell, Ionia!
Be thou still free and beautiful, and far

Aloof from desolation! My last prayer

Was for thee, my last thoughts-save one-were of

thee!

And that?

"BEAUTY LURES THE FULL-GROWN CHILD, WITH LURE AS BRIGHT, AND WING AS WILD

83

A CHASE OF IDLE HOPES AND FEARS, REGUN IN FOLLY, CLOSED IN TEARS."-LORD BYRON.

Sard.
Myrrha.

Sard.

Myrrha.

Sard.

Is yours.

[The trumpet sounds in the distance.

Hark!

Now!

Adieu, Assyria !

I loved thee well, my own, my fathers' land,
And better as my country than my kingdom.
I sated thee with peace and joys; and this
Is my reward! and now I owe thee nothing,
Not even a grave.
[He mounts the pile.

SO KEENLY TO THAT HOUR, BUT NE'ER FORGOT.”—BYRON.