The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 26

_Pan._ I never yet obeyed Your orders with more pleasure than the present.

Hence with him, soldiers! do not soil this hall Of royalty with treasonable gore; Put him to rest without.

_Her._ A single word: My office, King, is sacred.

_Sar._ And what's _mine_?

That thou shouldst come and dare to ask of me 320 To lay it down?

_Her._ I but obeyed my orders, At the same peril if refused, as now Incurred by my obedience.

_Sar._ So there are New monarchs of an hour's growth as despotic As sovereigns swathed in purple, and enthroned From birth to manhood!

_Her._ My life waits your breath.

Yours (I speak humbly)--but it may be--yours May also be in danger scarce less imminent: Would it then suit the last hours of a line Such as is that of Nimrod, to destroy 330 A peaceful herald, unarmed, in his office; And violate not only all that man Holds sacred between man and man--but that More holy tie which links us with the G.o.ds?

_Sar._ He's right.--Let him go free.--My life's last act Shall not be one of wrath. Here, fellow, take [_Gives him a golden cup from a table near_.

This golden goblet, let it hold your wine, And think of _me_; or melt it into ingots, And think of nothing but their weight and value.

_Her._ I thank you doubly for my life, and this 340 Most gorgeous gift, which renders it more precious.

But must I bear no answer?

_Sar._ Yes,--I ask An hour's truce to consider.

_Her._ But an hour's?

_Sar._ An hour's: if at the expiration of That time your masters hear no further from me, They are to deem that I reject their terms, And act befittingly.

_Her._ I shall not fail To be a faithful legate of your pleasure.

_Sar._ And hark! a word more.

_Her._ I shall not forget it, Whate'er it be.

_Sar._ Commend me to Beleses; 350 And tell him, ere a year expire, I summon Him hence to meet me.

_Her._ Where?

_Sar._ At Babylon.

At least from thence he will depart to meet me.

_Her._ I shall obey you to the letter. [_Exit Herald_.

_Sar._ Pania!-- Now, my good Pania!--quick--with what I ordered.

_Pan._ My Lord,--the soldiers are already charged.

And see! they enter.

_Soldiers enter, and form a Pile about the Throne, etc._[31]

_Sar._ Higher, my good soldiers, And thicker yet; and see that the foundation Be such as will not speedily exhaust Its own too subtle flame; nor yet be quenched 360 With aught officious aid would bring to quell it.

Let the throne form the _core_ of it; I would not Leave that, save fraught with fire unquenchable, To the new comers. Frame the whole as if 'Twere to enkindle the strong tower of our Inveterate enemies. Now it bears an aspect!

How say you, Pania, will this pile suffice For a King's obsequies?

_Pan._ Aye, for a kingdom's.

I understand you, now.

_Sar._ And blame me?

_Pan._ No-- Let me but fire the pile, and share it with you. 370

_Myr._ That _duty's_ mine.

_Pan._ A woman's!

_Myr._ 'Tis the soldier's Part to die _for_ his sovereign, and why not The woman's with her lover?

_Pan._ 'Tis most strange!

_Myr._ But not so rare, my Pania, as thou think'st it.

In the mean time, live thou.--Farewell! the pile Is ready.

_Pan._ I should shame to leave my sovereign With but a single female to partake His death.

_Sar._ Too many far have heralded Me to the dust already. Get thee hence; Enrich thee.

_Pan._ And live wretched!

_Sar._ Think upon 380 Thy vow:--'tis sacred and irrevocable.

_Pan._ Since it is so, farewell.

_Sar._ Search well my chamber, Feel no remorse at bearing off the gold; Remember, what you leave you leave the slaves Who slew me: and when you have borne away All safe off to your boats, blow one long blast Upon the trumpet as you quit the palace.

The river's brink is too remote, its stream Too loud at present to permit the echo To reach distinctly from its banks. Then fly,-- 390 And as you sail, turn back; but still keep on Your way along the Euphrates: if you reach The land of Paphlagonia, where the Queen Is safe with my three sons in Cotta's court, Say what you _saw_ at parting, and request That she remember what I _said_ at one Parting more mournful still.

_Pan._ That royal hand!

Let me then once more press it to my lips; And these poor soldiers who throng round you, and Would fain die with you!

[_The Soldiers and_ PANIA _throng round him, kissing his hand and the hem of his robe_.

_Sar._ My best! my last friends! 400 Let's not unman each other: part at once: All farewells should be sudden, when for ever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sad sands of life with tears.

Hence, and be happy: trust me, I am not _Now_ to be pitied; or far more for what Is past than present;--for the future, 'tis In the hands of the deities, if such There be: I shall know soon. Farewell--Farewell.

[_Exeunt_ PANIA _and Soldiers_.

_Myr._ These men were honest: it is comfort still 410 That our last looks should be on loving faces.

_Sar._ And _lovely_ ones, my beautiful!--but hear me!

If at this moment,--for we now are on The brink,--thou feel'st an inward shrinking from This leap through flame into the future, say it: I shall not love thee less; nay, perhaps more, For yielding to thy nature: and there's time Yet for thee to escape hence.

_Myr._ Shall I light One of the torches which lie heaped beneath The ever-burning lamp that burns without, 420 Before Baal's shrine, in the adjoining hall?