The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 14

_Sar._ That's true, my Myrrha; and could I convert My realm to one wide shelter for the wretched, I'd do it.

_Myr._ Thou'rt no G.o.d, then--not to be Able to work a will so good and general, As thy wish would imply.

_Sar._ And your G.o.ds, then, Who can, and do not?

_Myr._ Do not speak of that, Lest we provoke them.

_Sar._ True--, they love not censure Better than mortals. Friends, a thought has struck me: Were there no temples, would there, think ye, be Air worshippers?[v] that is, when it is angry, 50 And pelting as even now.

_Myr._ The Persian prays Upon his mountain.

_Sar._ Yes, when the Sun shines.

_Myr._ And I would ask if this your palace were Unroofed and desolate, how many flatterers Would lick the dust in which the King lay low?

_Alt._ The fair Ionian is too sarcastic Upon a nation whom she knows not well; The a.s.syrians know no pleasure but their King's, And homage is their pride.

_Sar._ Nay, pardon, guests, The fair Greek's readiness of speech.

_Alt._ _Pardon!_ sire: 60 We honour her of all things next to thee.

Hark! what was that?

_Zam._ That! nothing but the jar Of distant portals shaken by the wind.

_Alt._ It sounded like the clash of--hark again!

_Zam._ The big rain pattering on the roof.

_Sar._ No more.

Myrrha, my love, hast thou thy sh.e.l.l in order?

Sing me a song of Sappho[18]; her, thou know'st, Who in thy country threw----

_Enter_ PANIA, _with his sword and garments b.l.o.o.d.y, and disordered. The guests rise in confusion_.

_Pan._ (_to the Guards_). Look to the portals; And with your best speed to the walls without.

Your arms! To arms! The King's in danger. Monarch 70 Excuse this haste,--'tis faith.

_Sar._ Speak on.

_Pan._ It is As Salemenes feared; the faithless Satraps----

_Sar._ You are wounded--give some wine. Take breath, good Pania.

_Pan._ 'Tis nothing--a mere flesh wound. I am worn More with my speed to warn my sovereign, Than hurt in his defence.

_Myr._ Well, Sir, the rebels?

_Pan._ Soon as Arbaces and Beleses reached Their stations in the city, they refused To march; and on my attempt to use the power Which I was delegated with, they called 80 Upon their troops, who rose in fierce defiance.

_Myr._ All?

_Pan._ Too many.

_Sar._ Spare not of thy free speech, To spare mine ears--the truth.

_Pan._ My own slight guard Were faithful, and what's left of it is still so.

_Myr._ And are these all the force still faithful?

_Pan._ No-- The Bactrians, now led on by Salemenes, Who even then was on his way, still urged By strong suspicion of the Median chiefs, Are numerous, and make strong head against The rebels, fighting inch by inch, and forming 90 An orb around the palace, where they mean To centre all their force, and save the King.

(_He hesitates_.) I am charged to----

_Myr._ 'Tis no time for hesitation.

_Pan._ Prince Salemenes doth implore the King To arm himself, although but for a moment, And show himself unto the soldiers: his Sole presence in this instant might do more Than hosts can do in his behalf.

_Sar._ What, ho!

My armour there.

_Myr._ And wilt thou?

_Sar._ Will I not?

Ho, there!--but seek not for the buckler: 'tis 100 Too heavy:--a light cuira.s.s and my sword.

Where are the rebels?

_Pan._ Scarce a furlong's length From the outward wall the fiercest conflict rages.

_Sar._ Then I may charge on horseback. Sfero, ho!

Order my horse out.--There is s.p.a.ce enough Even in our courts, and by the outer gate, To marshal half the hors.e.m.e.n of Arabia.

[_Exit_ SFERO _for the armour_.

_Myr._ How I do love thee!

_Sar._ I ne'er doubted it.

_Myr._ But now I know thee.

_Sar._ (_to his Attendant_). Bring down my spear too-- Where's Salemenes?

_Pan._ Where a soldier should be, 110 In the thick of the fight.

_Sar._ Then hasten to him----Is The path still open, and communication Left 'twixt the palace and the phalanx?

_Pan._ 'Twas When I late left him, and I have no fear; Our troops were steady, and the phalanx formed.

_Sar._ Tell him to spare his person for the present, And that I will not spare my own--and say, I come.

_Pan._ There's victory in the very word. [_Exit_ PANIA.