The Works of Lord Byron | Page 7

the historical foundation of the following compositions the reader
is referred to the Notes.
The Author has in one instance attempted to preserve, and in the other
to approach, the "unities;" conceiving that with any very distant
departure from them, there may be poetry, but can be no drama. He is
aware of the unpopularity of this notion in present English literature;
but it is not a system of his own, being merely an opinion, which, not
very long ago, was the law of literature throughout the world, and is
still so in the more civilised parts of it. But "nous avons changé tout
cela," and are reaping the advantages of the change. The writer is far
from conceiving that any thing he can adduce by personal precept or
example can at all approach his regular, or even irregular predecessors:
he is merely giving a reason why he preferred the more regular
formation of a structure, however feeble, to an entire abandonment of
all rules whatsoever. Where he has failed, the failure is in the
architect,--and not in the art.
In this tragedy it has been my intention to follow the account of
Diodorus Siculus;[4] reducing it, however, to such dramatic regularity
as I best could, and trying to approach the unities. I therefore suppose
the rebellion to explode and succeed in one day by a sudden conspiracy,
instead of the long war of the history.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
MEN.
SARDANAPALUS, _king of Nineveh and Assyria, etc._
ARBACES, _the Mede who aspired to the Throne_.
BELESES, _a Chaldean and Soothsayer_.
SALEMENES, _the King's Brother-in-Law_.
ALTADA, _an Assyrian Officer of the Palace_.

PANIA.
ZAMES.
SFERO.
BALEA.
WOMEN.
ZARINA, _the Queen_.
MYRRHA, _an Ionian female Slave, and the Favourite Mistress
of_ SARDANAPALUS.
_Women composing the Harem of_ SARDANAPALUS, _Guards,
Attendants, Chaldean Priests, Medes, etc., etc._
SCENE.--A Hall in the Royal Palace of Nineveh.
SARDANAPALUS.[5]
ACT I.
SCENE I.--_A Hall in the Palace_.
_Salemenes_ (_solus_).
He hath wronged his queen, but still he is her
lord;
He hath wronged my sister--still he is my brother;
He hath
wronged his people--still he is their sovereign-- And I must be his
friend as well as subject:
He must not perish thus. I will not see
The
blood of Nimrod and Semiramis
Sink in the earth, and thirteen
hundred years
Of Empire ending like a shepherd's tale;
He must be
roused. In his effeminate heart
There is a careless courage which
Corruption 10 Has not all quenched, and latent energies,
Repressed
by circumstance, but not destroyed--
Steeped, but not drowned, in
deep voluptuousness.
If born a peasant, he had been a man
To have

reached an empire: to an empire born,
He will bequeath none; nothing
but a name,
Which his sons will not prize in heritage:--
Yet--not all
lost--even yet--he may redeem
His sloth and shame, by only being
that
Which he should be, as easily as the thing 20 He should not be
and is. 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