The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 22

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You shall not force me from you.

_Sar._ Think well of it-- It soon may be too late.

_Myr._ So let it be; For then you cannot separate me from you.

_Sar._ And will not; but I thought you wished it.

_Myr._ I!

_Sar._ You spoke of your abas.e.m.e.nt.

_Myr._ And I feel it Deeply--more deeply than all things but love.

_Sar._ Then fly from it.

_Myr._ 'Twill not recall the past-- 490 'Twill not restore my honour, nor my heart.

No--here I stand or fall. If that you conquer, I live to joy in your great triumph: should Your lot be different, I'll not weep, but share it.

You did not doubt me a few hours ago.

_Sar._ Your courage never--nor your love till now; And none could make me doubt it save yourself.

Those words----

_Myr._ 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, 500 Beside, wherever you are borne by fate.

_Sar._ 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[aj]

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. 510 I thought to have made mine inoffensive rule An era of sweet peace 'midst b.l.o.o.d.y annals, A green spot amidst desert centuries, On which the Future would turn back and smile, And cultivate, or sigh when it could not Recall 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 520 My only guerdon--so they are, my Myrrha: [_He kisses her_.

Kiss me. Now let them take my realm and life!

They shall have both, but never _thee!_

_Myr._ No, never!

Man may despoil his brother man of all That's great or glittering--kingdoms fall, hosts yield, Friends fail--slaves fly--and all betray--and, more Than all, the most indebted--but a heart That loves without self-love! 'Tis here--now prove it.

_Enter_ SALEMENES.

_Sal._ I sought you--How! _she_ here again?

_Sar._ Return not _Now_ to reproof: methinks your aspect speaks 530 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 embarked.

_Sar._ And well? say that much.

_Sal._ Yes.

Her transient weakness has pa.s.sed o'er; at least, It settled into tearless silence: her Pale face and glittering eye, after a glance Upon her sleeping children, were still fixed Upon the palace towers as the swift galley Stole down the hurrying stream beneath the starlight; 540 But she said nothing.

_Sar._ Would I felt no more Than she has said!

_Sal._ 'Tis now too late to feel.

Your feelings cannot cancel a sole pang: To change them, my advices bring sure tidings That the rebellious Medes and Chaldees, marshalled By their two leaders, are already up In arms again; and, serrying their ranks, Prepare to attack: they have apparently Been joined by other Satraps.

_Sar._ What! more rebels?

Let us be first, then.

_Sal._ That were hardly prudent 550 Now, though it was our first intention. If By noon to-morrow we are joined by those I've sent for by sure messengers, we shall be In strength enough to venture an attack, Aye, and pursuit too; but, till then, my voice Is to await the onset.

_Sar._ I detest 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 Strewed to receive them, still I like it not-- 560 My 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.

_Sar._ I am no soldier, but a man: speak not Of soldiers.h.i.+p, I loathe the word, and those Who pride themselves upon it; but direct me Where I may pour upon them.

_Sal._ You must spare To expose your life too hastily; 'tis not Like mine or any other subject's breath: 570 The whole war turns upon it--with it; this Alone creates it, kindles, and may quench it-- Prolong it--end it.

_Sar._ Then let us end both!

'Twere better thus, perhaps, than prolong either; I'm sick of one, perchance of both.

[_A trumpet sounds without_.

_Sal._ Hark!

_Sar._ Let us Reply, not listen.

_Sal._ And your wound!

_Sar._ 'Tis bound-- 'Tis healed--I had forgotten it. Away!

A leech's lancet would have scratched me deeper;[ak]

The slave that gave it might be well ashamed To have struck so weakly.

_Sal._ Now, may none this hour 580 Strike with a better aim!

_Sar._ Aye, if we conquer; But if not, they will only leave to me A task they might have spared their king. Upon them!

[_Trumpet sounds again_.

_Sal._ I am with you.

_Sar._ Ho, my arms! again, my arms!

[_Exeunt_.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-_The same Hall in the Palace_.

MYRRHA _and_ BALEA.

The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 22

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The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 22 summary

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