_Enter_ SARDANAPALUS _effeminately dressed, his Head
crowned with Flowers, and his Robe negligently flowing,
attended by a Train of Women and young Slaves_.
crowned with Flowers, and his Robe negligently flowing,
attended by a Train of Women and young Slaves_.
Byron
Were it less toil
To sway his nations than consume his life?
To head an army than to rule a harem?
He sweats in palling pleasures, dulls his soul,[a]
And saps his goodly strength, in toils which yield not
Health like the chase, nor glory like the war--
He must be roused. Alas! there is no sound
[_Sound of soft music heard from within_.
To rouse him short of thunder. Hark! the lute--
The lyre--the timbrel; the lascivious tinklings
Of lulling instruments, the softening voices 30
Of women, and of beings less than women,
Must chime in to the echo of his revel,
While the great King of all we know of earth
Lolls crowned with roses, and his diadem
Lies negligently by to be caught up
By the first manly hand which dares to snatch it.
Lo, where they come! already I perceive
The reeking odours of the perfumed trains,
And see the bright gems of the glittering girls,[b]
At once his Chorus and his Council, flash 40
Along the gallery, and amidst the damsels,
As femininely garbed, and scarce less female,
The grandson of Semiramis, the Man-Queen. --
He comes! Shall I await him? yes, and front him,
And tell him what all good men tell each other,
Speaking of him and his. They come, the slaves
Led by the monarch subject to his slaves.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ SARDANAPALUS _effeminately dressed, his Head
crowned with Flowers, and his Robe negligently flowing,
attended by a Train of Women and young Slaves_.
_Sar. _ (_speaking to some of his attendants_).
Let the pavilion[6] over the Euphrates
Be garlanded, and lit, and furnished forth
For an especial banquet; at the hour
Of midnight we will sup there: see nought wanting,
And bid the galley be prepared. There is
A cooling breeze which crisps the broad clear river:
We will embark anon. Fair Nymphs, who deign
To share the soft hours of Sardanapalus,
We'll meet again in that the sweetest hour,
When we shall gather like the stars above us, 10
And you will form a heaven as bright as theirs;
Till then, let each be mistress of her time,
And thou, my own Ionian Myrrha,[7] choose;
Wilt thou along with them or me?
_Myr. _ My Lord--
_Sar. _ My Lord! --my Life! why answerest thou so coldly?
It is the curse of kings to be so answered.
Rule thy own hours, thou rulest mine--say, wouldst thou
Accompany our guests, or charm away
The moments from me?
_Myr. _ The King's choice is mine.
_Sar.
To sway his nations than consume his life?
To head an army than to rule a harem?
He sweats in palling pleasures, dulls his soul,[a]
And saps his goodly strength, in toils which yield not
Health like the chase, nor glory like the war--
He must be roused. Alas! there is no sound
[_Sound of soft music heard from within_.
To rouse him short of thunder. Hark! the lute--
The lyre--the timbrel; the lascivious tinklings
Of lulling instruments, the softening voices 30
Of women, and of beings less than women,
Must chime in to the echo of his revel,
While the great King of all we know of earth
Lolls crowned with roses, and his diadem
Lies negligently by to be caught up
By the first manly hand which dares to snatch it.
Lo, where they come! already I perceive
The reeking odours of the perfumed trains,
And see the bright gems of the glittering girls,[b]
At once his Chorus and his Council, flash 40
Along the gallery, and amidst the damsels,
As femininely garbed, and scarce less female,
The grandson of Semiramis, the Man-Queen. --
He comes! Shall I await him? yes, and front him,
And tell him what all good men tell each other,
Speaking of him and his. They come, the slaves
Led by the monarch subject to his slaves.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ SARDANAPALUS _effeminately dressed, his Head
crowned with Flowers, and his Robe negligently flowing,
attended by a Train of Women and young Slaves_.
_Sar. _ (_speaking to some of his attendants_).
Let the pavilion[6] over the Euphrates
Be garlanded, and lit, and furnished forth
For an especial banquet; at the hour
Of midnight we will sup there: see nought wanting,
And bid the galley be prepared. There is
A cooling breeze which crisps the broad clear river:
We will embark anon. Fair Nymphs, who deign
To share the soft hours of Sardanapalus,
We'll meet again in that the sweetest hour,
When we shall gather like the stars above us, 10
And you will form a heaven as bright as theirs;
Till then, let each be mistress of her time,
And thou, my own Ionian Myrrha,[7] choose;
Wilt thou along with them or me?
_Myr. _ My Lord--
_Sar. _ My Lord! --my Life! why answerest thou so coldly?
It is the curse of kings to be so answered.
Rule thy own hours, thou rulest mine--say, wouldst thou
Accompany our guests, or charm away
The moments from me?
_Myr. _ The King's choice is mine.
_Sar.
