The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 2

_Myr._ Great King, Thou didst not say so.

_Sar._ But _thou_ looked'st it: I know each glance of those Ionic eyes,[d]

Which said thou wouldst not leave me.

_Myr._ Sire! your brother----

_Sal._ His _Consort's_ brother, minion of Ionia! 40 How darest _thou_ name _me_ and not blush?

_Sar._ Not blush!

Thou hast no more eyes than heart to make her crimson Like to the dying day on Caucasus, Where sunset tints the snow with rosy shadows, And then reproach her with thine own cold blindness, Which will not see it. What! in tears, my Myrrha?

_Sal._ Let them flow on; she weeps for more than one, And is herself the cause of bitterer tears.

_Sar._ Cursed be he who caused those tears to flow!

_Sal._ Curse not thyself--millions do that already. 50

_Sar._ Thou dost forget thee: make me not remember I am a monarch.

_Sal._ Would thou couldst!

_Myr._ My sovereign, I pray, and thou, too, Prince, permit my absence.

_Sar._ Since it must be so, and this churl has checked Thy gentle spirit, go; but recollect That we must forthwith meet: I had rather lose An empire than thy presence. [_Exit_ MYRRHA.

_Sal._ It may be, Thou wilt lose both--and both for ever!

_Sar._ Brother!

I can at least command myself, who listen To language such as this: yet urge me not 60 Beyond my easy nature.

_Sal._ 'Tis beyond That easy--far too easy--idle nature, Which I would urge thee. O that I could rouse thee!

Though 'twere against myself.

_Sar._ By the G.o.d Baal!

The man would make me tyrant.

_Sal._ So thou art.

Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice, The weakness and the wickedness of luxury, The negligence, the apathy, the evils Of sensual sloth--produce ten thousand tyrants, 70 Whose delegated cruelty surpa.s.ses The worst acts of one energetic master, However harsh and hard in his own bearing.

The false and fond examples of thy l.u.s.ts Corrupt no less than they oppress, and sap In the same moment all thy pageant power And those who should sustain it; so that whether A foreign foe invade, or civil broil Distract within, both will alike prove fatal: The first thy subjects have no heart to conquer; 80 The last they rather would a.s.sist than vanquish.

_Sar._ Why, what makes thee the mouth-piece of the people?

_Sal._ Forgiveness of the Queen, my sister wrongs; A natural love unto my infant nephews; Faith to the King, a faith he may need shortly, In more than words; respect for Nimrod's line; Also, another thing thou knowest not.

_Sar._ What's that?

_Sal._ To thee an unknown word.

_Sar._ Yet speak it; I love to learn.

_Sal._ Virtue.

_Sar._ Not know the word!

Never was word yet rung so in my ears-- 90 Worse than the rabble's shout, or splitting trumpet: I've heard thy sister talk of nothing else.

_Sal._ To change the irksome theme, then, hear of vice.

_Sar._ From whom?

_Sal._ Even from the winds, if thou couldst listen Unto the echoes of the Nation's voice.

_Sar._ Come, I'm indulgent, as thou knowest, patient, As thou hast often proved--speak out, what moves thee?

_Sal._ Thy peril.

_Sar._ Say on.

_Sal._ Thus, then: all the nations, For they are many, whom thy father left In heritage, are loud in wrath against thee. 100

_Sar._ 'Gainst _me!!_ What would the slaves?

_Sal._ A king.

_Sar._ And what Am I then?

_Sal._ In their eyes a nothing; but In mine a man who might be something still.

_Sar._ The railing drunkards! why, what would they have?

Have they not peace and plenty?

_Sal._ Of the first More than is glorious: of the last, far less Than the King recks of.

_Sar._ Whose then is the crime, But the false satraps, who provide no better?

_Sal._ And somewhat in the Monarch who ne'er looks Beyond his palace walls, or if he stirs 110 Beyond them, 'tis but to some mountain palace, Till summer heats wear down. O glorious Baal!

Who built up this vast empire, and wert made A G.o.d, or at the least shinest like a G.o.d Through the long centuries of thy renown, This, thy presumed descendant, ne'er beheld As king the kingdoms thou didst leave as hero, Won with thy blood, and toil, and time, and peril!

For what? to furnish imposts for a revel, Or multiplied extortions for a minion. 120

_Sar._ I understand thee--thou wouldst have me go Forth as a conqueror. By all the stars Which the Chaldeans read--the restless slaves[e]

Deserve that I should curse them with their wishes, And lead them forth to glory.

_Sal._ Wherefore not?

Semiramis--a woman only--led These our a.s.syrians to the solar sh.o.r.es Of Ganges.

_Sar._ Tis most true. And _how_ returned?

_Sal._ Why, like a _man_--a hero; baffled, but Not vanquished. With but twenty guards, she made 130 Good her retreat to Bactria.

_Sar._ And how many Left she behind in India to the vultures?