for that--I love them;
I love to watch them in the deep blue vault,
And to compare them with my Myrrha's eyes;
I love to see their rays redoubled in
The tremulous silver of Euphrates' wave,
As the light breeze of
midnight
crisps the broad
And rolling water, sighing through the sedges
Which fringe his banks: but whether they may be
Gods, as some say, or the abodes of Gods, 260
As others hold, or simply lamps of night,
Worlds--or the lights of Worlds--I know nor care not.
Byron
_ You shall join them ere they will rise,
If you preach farther--Why, _this_ is rank treason.
_Sal._ My lord!
_Sar._ To school me in the worship of
Assyria's idols! Let him be released--
Give him his sword.
_Sal._ My Lord, and King, and Brother,
I pray ye pause.
_Sar._ Yes, and be sermonised,
And dinned, and deafened with dead men and Baal, 250
And all Chaldea's starry mysteries.
_Bel._ Monarch! respect them.
_Sar._ Oh!
for that--I love them;
I love to watch them in the deep blue vault,
And to compare them with my Myrrha's eyes;
I love to see their rays redoubled in
The tremulous silver of Euphrates' wave,
As the light breeze of
midnight
crisps the broad
And rolling water, sighing through the sedges
Which fringe his banks: but whether they may be
Gods, as some say, or the abodes of Gods, 260
As others hold, or simply lamps of night,
Worlds--or the lights of Worlds--I know nor care not.
There's something sweet in my uncertainty
I would not change for your Chaldean lore;
Besides, I know of these all clay can know
Of aught above it, or below it--nothing.
I see their brilliancy and feel their beauty[m]--
When they shine on my grave I shall know neither.
_Bel._ For _neither_, Sire, say _better_.
_Sar._ I will wait,
If it so please you, Pontiff, for that knowledge. 270
In the mean time receive your sword, and know
That I prefer your service militant
Unto your ministry--not loving either.
_Sal._ (_aside_). His lusts have made him mad. Then must I save him,
Spite of himself.
_Sar._ Please you to hear me, Satraps!
And chiefly thou, my priest, because I doubt thee
More than the soldier; and would doubt thee all
Wert thou not half a warrior: let us part
In peace--I'll not say pardon--which must be
Earned by the guilty; this I'll not pronounce ye, 280
Although upon this breath of mine depends
Your own; and, deadlier for ye, on my fears.
But fear not--for that I am soft, not fearful--
And so live on.
