Sal. Why, like a man—a hero; baffled, but | And skirts of these our realms lle not, Not vanquish'd. With but twenty guards, she made Good her retreat to Bactria. Sard. And how many Left she behind in India to the vultures? Sard. Then I will say for them— Have fled to Bactria, leaving to the ravens, Her myriads of fond subjects. Is this glory? Sal. All warlike spirits have not the Semiramis, the glorious parent of A hundred kings, although she fail'd in Brought Persia, Media, Bactria, to the Which she once sway'd-and thou mightst sway. Sard. I sway them— That they will need her sword more than Sard. There was a certain Bacchus, was there not? I've heard my Greek girls speak of such they say He was a god, that is, a Grecian god, Thou prat'st of, where Semiramis was Sal. I have heard of such a man; and thou perceiv'st That he is deem'd a god for what he did. Not much as man. What, ho! my cupbearer! Sard. To worship your new god Enter Cupbearer. Sard. (addressing the Cupbearer) [Exit Cupbearer. Sal. Is this moment Re-enter Cupbearer, with wine. If these barbarian Greeks of the far shores this Bacchus Conquer'd the whole of India, did he not? Which The landmarks of the seas of gore he shed, But here, here in this goblet is his title gave To gladden that of man, as some atonement Sal. For all thy realms I would not so blaspheme our country's Sard. That is to say, thou thinkest him I pledge thee In good or evil to surprise mankind. [Drinks. Sal. Wilt thou resume a revel at this hour? Continue what thou pleasest. [Exit Cupbearer. Sal. I would but have recall'd thee from thy dream: Better by me awaken'd than rebellion. I am the lawful king, descended from Sal. Of what thou hast done to me I Sard. But Thou thinkst that I have wrong'd the queen: is't not so? Sal. Think! Thou hast wrong'd her! Sard. Patience, prince, and hear me. She has all power and splendour of her station, Respect, the tutelage of Assyria's heirs, The homage and the appanage of sovereignty. I married her as monarchs wed-for state, And loved her as most husbands love their wives. If she or thou supposedst I could link me Complaint, and Salemenes' sister seeks not With foreign strumpets and Ionian slaves. The queen is silent. Sard. And why not her brother? Sal. I only echo thee the voice of empires, Which he who long neglects not long will govern. Sard. The ungrateful and ungracious slaves! they murmur Because I have not shed their blood, nor led them To dry into the desert's dust by myriads, Nor decimated them with savage laws, Sal. Yet these are trophies More worthy of a people and their prince Than songs, and lutes, and feasts, and concubines, And lavish'd treasures, and contemned virtues. Sard. Now, for my trophies I have founded cities: Sal. A worthy moral, and a wise inscription, For a king to put up before his subjects! Sard. Oh, thou wouldst have me doubtless set up edicts "Obey the king contribute to his treasureRecruit his phalanx-spill your blood at bidding -- Fall down and worship, or get up and toil." I leave such things to conquerors; enough Sard. In dust There's Tarsus and Anchialus, both built And thine and mine; and in another day In one day-what could that blood-loving | What is My martial grandam, chaste Semiramis, Sal. 'Tis most true: I own thy merit in those founded cities, Built for a whim, recorded with a verse Which shames both them and thee to coming ages. Sard. Shame me! By Baal, the cities, though well built, Are not more goodly than the verse! Say what Thou wilt 'gainst me,my mode of life or rule, But nothing 'gainst the truth of that brief record. Why, those few lines contain the history Sard. Sal. shall be the past of Belus' race. What must we dread? Which has environ'd thee with snares; but yet There is resource: empower me with thy signet To quell the machinations, and I lay The heads of thy chief foes before thy feet. Sard. The heads-how many! Sal. Must I stay to number When even thine own's in peril? Let me go; Give me thy signet-trust me with the rest. Sard. I will trust no man with unli mited lives. When we take those from others, we nor know What we have taken, nor the thing we give. Sal. Wouldst thou not take their lives who seek for thine? Sard. That's a hard question.--But, I answer Yes. Cannot the thing be done without? Who |I would not give the smile of one fair girl are they Whom thou suspectest? - Let them be arrested. Sal. I would thou wouldst not ask me; the next moment For all the popular breath that e'er divided A name from nothing. What are the rank tongues Of this vile herd, grown insolent with feeding, Will send my answer through thy bab-That I should prize their noisy praise, or bling troop Of paramours,and thence fly o'er the palace, Sard. Thou knowest I have done so ever; dread Their noisome clamour? Sal. You have said they are men; And better, as more faithful: – but, proceed: Sal. That thou this night forbear the Let them be temper'd; yet not roughly, till banquet In the pavilion over the Euphrates. That ever shook a kingdom! Let them come, Nor rise the sooner; nor forbear the goblet; Sard. Perhaps. armour, and A sword of such a temper; and a bow And javelin, which might furnish Nimrod forth: I have the goodliest A little heavy, but yet not unwieldy. Even in the chase. Hast ever seen them, Sal. Is this a time for such fantastic trifling? If need be, wilt thou wear them? Sard. Will I not? Oh! if it must be so, and these rash slaves Will not be ruled with less, I'll use the sword Till they shall wish it turn'd into a distaff. Sal. They say, thy sceptre 's turn'd to that already. Sard. That's false! but let them say so: Of whom our captives often sing, related Sal. They did not speak thus of thy fathers. They dared not. They were kept to toil and combat, Necessity enforce it. I hate all pain, Which sleeps at times, but is not dead within thee, And thou mayst yet be glorious in thy reign, Sard. (solus). Farewell! Myrrha. My lord! For ever something between us and what We deem our happiness: let me remove The barrier which that hesitating accent Must I consume my life-this little life-Proclaims to thine, and mine is seal'd. In guarding against all may make it less? It is not worth so much! It were to die Before my hour, to live in dread of death, Tracing revolt; suspecting all about me, Because they are near; and all who are remote, Because they are far. But if it should be soIf they should sweep me off from earth and empire, Why, what is earth or empire of the earth? To die is no less natural than those— Of Nineveh's vast treasures e'er been lavish'd And mow'd down like the grass, else all Is rank abundance, and a rotten harvest I'll think no more. Sard. Within there, ho! Enter an Attendant. Slave, tell Sard. My lord - my king-sire—sovereign! thus it is For ever thus, address'd with awe. I ne'er Intoxicating glare, when the buffoons ment. Myrrha, I can hear all these things, these names, Lord-king-sire-monarch-nay,time was That is, I suffer'd them—from slaves and nobles; But when they falter from the lips I love, The lips which have been press'd to mine, a chill Comes o'er my heart, a cold sense of the falsehood Of this my station, which represses feeling Wish that I could lay down the dull tiara, Myrrha. Would that we could! Sard. And that is Myrrha. The true value of a heart; At least a woman's. Sard. I have proved a thousand— A thousand, and a thousand. Myrrha. Hearts? Sard. I think so. Myrrha. Not one! the time may come thou mayst. Sard. It will. Hear, Myrrha; Salemenes has declared— But Salemenes hath declared my throne Myrrha. He did well. Sard. And sayst thou so? Thou whom he spurn'd so harshly, and now dared Assume to win them? Myrrha. Who is he should dread To try so much? When he who is their ruler Forgets himself, will they remember him? Sard. Myrrha! Myrrha. Frown not upon me: you have smiled Too often on me not to make those frowns Bitterer to bear than any punishment Which they may augur.—King, I am your subject! Master, I am your slave! Man, I have loved you!Loved you, I know not by what fatal weakness, Although a Greek, and born a foe to monarchs A slave, and hating fetters-an Ionian, And, therefore, when I love a stranger, more Degraded by that passion than by chains! Still I have loved you. If that love were strong Enough to overcome all former nature, Shall it not claim the privilege to save you? first small words are taught you from her lips, Your first tears quench'd by her, and your last sighs Too often breathed out in a woman's hearing, When men have shrunk from the ignoble care Of watching the last hour of him who led them. Sard. My eloquent Ionian! thou speakst music, The very chorus of the tragic song I have heard thee talk of as the favourite pastime Of thy far father-land. Nay, weep notcalm thee. Myrrha. I weep not.—But I pray thee, do not speak About my fathers or their land. Myrrha. True-true: constant thought Sard. Well, then, how wouldst thou save me, as thou saidst? Myrrha. By teaching thee to save thyself, and not Thyself alone, but these vast realms, from all The rage of the worst war-the war of brethren. Sard. Why, child, I loathe all war, and |