my-that is,

Your children's sake!

Sard. My gentle, wrong'd Zarina!
I am the very slave of circumstance
And impulse-borne away with every breath!
Misplaced upon the throne-misplaced in
life.

I know not what I could have been, but feel
I am not what I should be let it end.
But take this with thee: if I was not form'd
To prize a love like thine, a mind like thine,
Nor dote even on thy beauty-as I've doted
On lesser charms, for no cause save that
such

Devotion was a duty, and I hated

All that look'd like a chain for me or others (This even rebellion must avouch); yet hear These words, perhaps among my last-that

none

E'er valued more thy virtues, though he knew not

To profit by them-as the miner lights Upon a vein of virgin-ore, discovering That which avails him nothing: he hath found it,

But 'tis not his-but some superior's, who Placed him to dig, but not divide the wealth Which sparkles at his feet; nor dare he lift Nor poise it, but must grovel on upturning The sullen earth.

Zarina. Oh! if thou hast at length Discover'd that my love is worth esteem, I ask no more - but let us hence together, And 1-let me say we shall yet be happy. Assyria is not all the earth - we'll find A world out of our own--and be more blest Than I have ever been, or thou, with all An empire to indulge thee.

Enter SALEMENES.

Sal. I must part ye

of state:

Your children, with two parents and yet orphans

In a strange land-so young, so distant?

Zarina. No

My heart will break.

Sal. Now you know all - decide. Sard. Zarina, he hath spoken well, and we Must yield awhile to this necessity. Remaining here, you may lose all; departing, You save the better part of what is left To both of us, and to such loyal hearts As yet beat in these kingdoms. Sal. The time presses.

Sard. Go, then. If e'er we meet again, perhaps

I may be worthier of you - and, if not, Remember that my faults, though not atoned for,

Are ended. Yet, I dread thy nature will Grieve more above the blighted name and

ashes

Which once were mightiest in Assyria

than

passing.

Than one tear of a true and tender heart

thus weigh out

Instants so high and blest?

Sal. Blest!

Zarina. He hath been

So gentle with me that I cannot think
Of quitting.

Sal. So this feminine farewell
Ends as such partings end, in no departure.
I thought as much, and yielded against all
My better bodings. But it must not be.
Zarina. Not be?

Sal. Remain, and perish-
Zarina. With my husband--
Sal. And children.

Zarina.

Alas!

Here when I had re-mann'd myself. My brother,

Lead her away.

Zarina. Oh, God! I never shall Behold him more!

Sal. (striving to conduct her) Nay, sister, I must be obey'd.

Zarina. I must remain-away! you shall

not hold me.

What, shall he die alone?—I live alone? Sal. He shall not die alone; but lonely you Have lived for years.

Zarina. That's false! I knew he lived, And lived upon his image-let me go! Sal. (conducting her off the stage) Nay, then, I must use some fraternal force, Which you will pardon.

Zarina. Never. Help me! Oh! Sardanapalus, wilt thou thus behold me Torn from thee?

your duties

Sard. It forms no portion of To enter here till sought for. Myrrha. Though I might, Perhaps, recal some softer words of yours (Although they too were chiding), which reproved me,

Because I ever dreaded to intrude; Resisting my own wish and your injunction To heed no time nor presence, but approach you

Uncall'd for: I retire.

Sard. Yet, stay-being here.

I pray you pardon me: events have sour'd me Till I wax peevish-heed it not: I shall Soon be myself again.

Myrrha. I wait with patience, What I shall see with pleasure.

Sard. Scarce a moment

Before your entrance in this hall, Zarina,
Queen of Assyria, departed hence.
Myrrha. Ah!

Sard. Wherefore do you start?
Myrrha. Did I do so?

Sard. 'Twas well you enter'd by another
portal,

Else you had met.

That pang at least is

spared her! Myrrha I know to feel for her.

Sard. That is too much,

And beyond nature- 'tis nor mutual, Nor possible. You cannot pity her, Nor she aught but

Myrrha. Despise the favorite slave? Not more than I have ever scorn'd myself. Sard. Scorn'd! what, to be the envy of your sex,

And lord it o'er the heart of the world's lord? Myrrha. Were you the lord of twice ten thousand worlds

As you are like to lose the one you sway'd-
I did abase myself as much in being
Your paramour, as though you were a
peasant-

Nay, more, if that the peasant were a Greek.
Sard. You talk it well-
Myrrha. And truly.
Sard. In the hour

Of man's adversity all things grow daring
Against the falling; but as I am not
Quite fallen, nor now disposed to bear
reproaches,

Perhaps because I merit them too often, Let us then part while peace is still between us.

Myrrha. Part!

Sard. Have not all past human beings parted,

And must not all the present one day part? Myrrha. Why?

Sard. For your safety, which I will have look'd to,

With a strong escort to your native land;
And such gifts, as, if you have not been all
A queen, shall make your dowry worth a
kingdom.

Myrrha. I pray you talk not thus.
Sard. The queen is gone:

You need not shame to follow. I would fall
Alone-I seek no partners but in pleasure.
Myrrha. And I no pleasure but in part-
ing not.

You shall not force me from you.
Sard. Think well of it-

It soon may be too late.

Myrrha. So let it be;

For then you cannot separate me from you. Sard. And will not; but I thought you wish'd it.

And none could make me doubt it save

yourself.

Those words

Myrrha. 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, Beside, wherever you are borne by fate. Sard. 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
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.
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 Recal 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 My only guerdon- so they are, my Myrrha: [He kisses her. Now let them take my realm and life!

Kiss me.

They shall have both, but never thee!

Myrrha. No, never!

Man may despoil his brother man of all That's great or glittering: kingdoms fallhosts yield

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

Strew'd to receive them, still I like it notMy 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. Sard. 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

and, more

Than all, the most indebted-but a heart That loves without self-love! Tis herenow prove it.

Enter SALEMENES.

Sal. I sought you.- How! she here again? Sard. Return not

Now to reproof: methinks your aspect speaks 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 embark'd.

Sard. And well? say that much.
Sal. Yes.

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

A task they might have spared their king. Upon them! [Trumpet sounds again.

Sal. I am with you. Sard. Ho, my arms! again, my arms! [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The same Hall of the Palace.

MYRRHA and BALBA.

Myrrha (at a window). The day at last has broken. What a night Hath usher'd 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
Vapours more lovely than the unclouded sky,
With golden pinnacles, and snowy moun-
tains,

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
Scatter'd along the eternal vault: and yet
It dwells upon the soul, and soothes the soul,
And blends itself into the soul, until
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 (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 The rest of common, heavy, human hours, And dream them through in placid suffer

He sway'd.

Myrrha. He sways it now far more, then; never

Had earthly monarch half the peace and glory

Which centres in a single ray of his.
Balea. Surely he is a god!

Myrrha. 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. Balea. Hark! heard you not a sound?

Myrrha. No, 'twas mere fancy; They battle it beyond the wall, and not 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.

Balea. But they reach'd Thus far before.

Myrrha. Yes, by surprise, and were Beat back by valour; now at once we have Courage and vigilance to guard us. Balea. May they

Prosper!

Enter Soldiers, bearing in SALEMENES wound-
ed, with a broken Javelin in his Side;
they seat him upon one of the Couches
which furnish the Apartment.
Myrrha. Oh, Jove!

Balea. Then all is over.
Sal. That is false.

Hew down the slave who says so, if a soldier. Myrrha. Spare him-he's none: a mere court-butterfly,

That flutters in the pageant of a monarch.
Sal. Let him live on, then.
Myrrha. 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? Soldier. 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!

Myrrha. Let me see the wound;

I am not quite skilless: in my native land 'Tis part of our instruction. War being constant,

We are need to look on such things.
Soldier. Best exact

The javelin.

Myrrha. Hold! no, no, it cannot be. Sal. I am sped, then!

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.
Myrrha. 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 And my life with it, could I but hear how The fight goes.

Enter SARDANAPALUS and Soldiers. Sard. My best brother!

Sal. And the battle

Is lost?

Sard. (despondingly) You see me here. Sal. I'd rather see you thus!

[He draws out the weapon from the wound, and dies.

Sard. And thus I will be seen; unless the succour,

The last frail reed of our beleaguer'd hopes, Arrive with Ofratanes.

Myrrha. Did you not

Receive a token from your dying brother,
Appointing Zames chief?
Sard. I did.

Myrrha. Where's Zames?
Sard. Dead.

Myrrha. And Altada?
Sard. Dying.

Myrrha. Pania? Sfero?

Sard. Pania yet lives; but Sfero's fled. or captive.

encouraging

That Zames take my post until the junction, So hoped for, yet delay'd, of Ofratanes, Satrap of Susa. Leave me here: our troops Are not so numerous as to spare your absence. Soldier. 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 Upon the field, I'll have no idle soldiers About my sick-couch. Hence! and do my bidding! [Exeunt the Soldiers. Myrrha. Gallant and glorious spirit! must the earth So soon resign thee?

Myrrha. And is all lost?
Sard. Our walls,

Though thinly mann'd, may still hold out against

Their present force,or aught save treachery: But i' the field

Myrrha. I thought 'twas the intent Of Salemenes not to risk a sally Till ye were strengthen'd by the expected

These realms, of which thou wert the ornament,

The sword and shield, the sole-redeeming honour,

To call back-But I will not weep for thee; Thou shalt be mourn'd for as thou wouldst be mourn'd.

It grieves me most that thou couldst quit this life

Believing that I could survive what thon
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