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The poetical works of Lord Byron : with life and portrait / Illustrations by F.Gilbert
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BYRONS WORKS.

524

Myr. Thou shalt see.

[Eait Myrrlia.

Sar. (solus.) Shes firm. My fathers. 1 whom Iwill rejoin,

It may he, purified by death from someOf the gross stains of too material being,

I would not leave your ancient first abodeTo the defilement of usurping bondmen;

If I have not kept your inheritanceAs ye bequeathd it, this bright part of it,

Your treasure, your abode, your sacred relics,

Of arms and records, monuments, and spoils,

In which they would have revelld, I bear withme ,

To you in that absorbing element,

Which most personifies the soul as leavingTiie least of matter unconsumed beforeIts fiery workings':and the light of thisMost royal of funereal pyres shall beNot a mere pillar formd of cloud and flame,

A beacon in the horizon for a day,

And then a mount of ashes, but a lightTo lesson ages, rebel nations, andVoluptuous princes. Time shall quench fullmany

A peoples records, and a heros acts ;

Sweep empire after empire, like this firstOf empires, into nothing; hut even thenShall spare this deed of mine, and hold it upA problem few dare imitate, and noneDespisehut, it may be, avoid the lifeWhich led to such a consummation.

MYRRHA returns with a lighted torch in one hand,and a cup in the other.

Myr. Lo!

Ive lit the lamp which lights us to the stars.

Sar. And the cup ?

. Myr.Tis my countrys custom to

Make a libation to the gods.

Sar. And mine

To make libations amongst men. Ive notForgot the custom j and although alone,

Will drain one draught in memory of manyA joyous banquet past.

[SARDANAPALUS takes the cup, andafter drinking and tinkling the reversedcup, and as a drop falls, exclaimsAnd this libationIs for the excellent Beleses.

Myr. Why

Dwells thy mind rather upon that mans nameThan on his mates in villany ?

Sar. The one

Is a mere soldier, a mere tool, a kindOf human sword in a friends hand; the otherIs master mover of his warlike puppet;

But I dismiss them from my mind.Yet pause,My Myrrlia! dost thou truly follow me,

Freely and fearlessly ?

Myr. And dost thou think

A Greek girl dare not do for love, that whichAn Indian widow braves for custom ?

Sar. Then

We but await the signal.

Myr. It is long

In sounding.

Sar. Now, farewell; one last embrace

Myr. Embrace, but not the last; there is onemore.

Sar. True, the commingling fire will mix ourashes.

Myr. And pure as is my love to thee, shall they,Purged from the dross of earth, and earthly pas*sion,

Mix pale with thine. A single thought yet irksme-

Sar. Say it.

Myr. It is that no kind hand will gather

The dust of both into one urn.

Sar. The better:

Rather let them be borne abroad uponThe winds of heaven, and scatterd into air,

Than be polluted more by human handsOf slaves and traitors. In this blazing palace,And its enormous walls of reeking ruin,

We leave a nobler monument than EgyptHath piled in her brick mountains, oer deadkings,

Or bine, for none know whether those proud pilesBe for their monarch or their ox*god Apis :

So much for monuments that have forgottenTheir very record I

Myr. Then farewell, thou earth l

And loveliest spot of earth! farewell, Ionia IBe thou still free and beautiful, and farAloof from desolation! My last prayerWas for thee, my last thoughts, save one, wereof thee.

Sar. And that ?

Myr. Is yours.

[The trumpet of Pania sounds without .Sar . Hark »

Myr. Now!

Sar. Adieu, Assyria !

I loved thee well, my own, toy fathers land,

And better as my country than my kingdom.

I sated thee with peace and joys; and thisIs my reward! and. now I owe thee nothing,

Not even a grave.

[He mounts the pyre.Now, Myrrlia!

Myr. Art thou ready ?

Sar. As the torch in thy grasp.

IMyrrha fires the pile.Myr.Tis fired! I come.

[As Myrrha springs/oncard to tkroio Iter .self into the fiames, the curtain falls.