The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 9

_Bel._ (_delivering his_). My lord, behold my scimitar.

_Arb._ (_drawing his sword_). Take mine.

_Sal._ (_advancing_). I will.

_Arb._ But in your heart the blade-- The hilt quits not this hand.[l]

_Sal._ (_drawing_). How! dost thou brave me?

Tis well--this saves a trial, and false mercy. 160 Soldiers, hew down the rebel!

_Arb._ Soldiers! Aye-- _Alone, you_ dare not.

_Sal._ Alone! foolish slave-- What is there in thee that a Prince should shrink from Of open force? We dread thy treason, not Thy strength: thy tooth is nought without its venom-- The serpent's, not the lion's. Cut him down.

_Bel._ (_interposing_). Arbaces! Are you mad? Have I not rendered _My_ sword? Then trust like me our Sovereign's justice.

_Arb._ No--I will sooner trust the stars thou prat'st of, And this slight arm, and die a king at least 170 Of my own breath and body--so far that None else shall chain them.

_Sal._ (_to the Guards_). You hear _him_ and _me_.

Take him not,--kill.

[_The Guards attack_ ARBACES, _who defends himself valiantly and dexterously till they waver_.

_Sal._ Is it even so; and must I do the hangman's office? Recreants! see How you should fell a traitor.

[SALEMENES _attacks_ ARBACES.

_Enter_ SARDANAPALUS _and Train_.

_Sar._ Hold your hands-- Upon your lives, I say. What, deaf or drunken?

My sword! O fool, I wear no sword: here, fellow, Give me thy weapon. [_To a Guard_.

[SARDANAPALUS _s.n.a.t.c.hes a sword from one of the soldiers, and rushes between the combatants--they separate_.

_Sar._ In my very palace!

What hinders me from cleaving you in twain, Audacious brawlers?

_Bel._ Sire, your justice.

_Sal._ Or-- 180 Your weakness.

_Sar._ (_raising the sword_). How?

_Sal._ Strike! so the blow's repeated Upon yon traitor--whom you spare a moment, I trust, for torture--I'm content.

_Sar._ What--him!

Who dares a.s.sail Arbaces?

_Sal._ I!

_Sar._ Indeed!

Prince, you forget yourself. Upon what warrant?

_Sal._ (_showing the signet_). Thine.

_Arb._ (_confused_). The King's!

_Sal._ Yes! and let the King confirm it.

_Sar._ I parted not from this for such a purpose.

_Sal._ You parted with it for your safety--I Employed it for the best. p.r.o.nounce in person.

Here I am but your slave--a moment past 190 I was your representative.

_Sar._ Then sheathe Your swords.

[ARBACES _and_ SALEMENES _return their swords to the scabbards_.

_Sal._ Mine's sheathed: I pray you sheathe _not_ yours: Tis the sole sceptre left you now with safety.

_Sar._ A heavy one; the hilt, too, hurts my hand.

(_To a Guard_.) Here, fellow, take thy weapon back. Well, sirs, What doth this mean?

_Bel._ The Prince must answer that.

_Sal._ Truth upon my part, treason upon theirs.

_Sar._ Treason--Arbaces! treachery and Beleses!

That were an union I will not believe.

_Bel._ Where is the proof?

_Sal._ I'll answer that, if once 200 The king demands your fellow-traitor's sword.

_Arb._ (_to Sal._). A sword which hath been drawn as oft as thine Against his foes.

_Sal._ And now against his brother, And in an hour or so against himself.

_Sar._ That is not possible: he dared not; no-- No--I'll not hear of such things. These vain bickerings Are sp.a.w.ned in courts by base intrigues, and baser Hirelings, who live by lies on good men's lives.

You must have been deceived, my brother.

_Sal._ First Let him deliver up his weapon, and 210 Proclaim himself your subject by that duty, And I will answer all.

_Sar._ Why, if I thought so-- But no, it cannot be: the Mede Arbaces-- The trusty, rough, true soldier--the best captain Of all who discipline our nations----No, I'll not insult him thus, to bid him render The scimitar to me he never yielded Unto our enemies. Chief, keep your weapon.

_Sal._ (_delivering back the signet_).

Monarch, take back your signet.

_Sar._ No, retain it; But use it with more moderation.

_Sal._ Sire, 200 I used it for your honour, and restore it Because I cannot keep it with my own.