Myr.‍Great King,

Thou didst not say so.

Sar.‍But thou looked'st it:

I know each glance of those Ionic eyes,[d]

Which said thou wouldst not leave me.

Myr.‍Sire! your brother——

Sal. His Consort's brother, minion of Ionia!40

How darest thou name me and not blush?

Sar.‍Not blush!

Thou hast no more eyes than heart to make her crimson

Like to the dying day on Caucasus,

Where sunset tints the snow with rosy shadows,

And then reproach her with thine own cold blindness,

Which will not see it. What! in tears, my Myrrha?

Sal. Let them flow on; she weeps for more than one,

And is herself the cause of bitterer tears.

Sar. Curséd be he who caused those tears to flow!

Sal. Curse not thyself—millions do that already.50

Sar. Thou dost forget thee: make me not remember

I am a monarch.

Sal.‍Would thou couldst!

Myr.‍My sovereign,

I pray, and thou, too, Prince, permit my absence.

Sar. Since it must be so, and this churl has checked

Thy gentle spirit, go; but recollect

That we must forthwith meet: I had rather lose

An empire than thy presence. [Exit Myrrha.

Sal.‍It may be,

Thou wilt lose both—and both for ever!

Sar.‍Brother!

I can at least command myself, who listen

To language such as this: yet urge me not60

Beyond my easy nature.

Sal.‍'Tis beyond

That easy—far too easy—idle nature,

Which I would urge thee. O that I could rouse thee!

Though 'twere against myself.

Sar.‍By the god Baal!

The man would make me tyrant.

Sal.‍So thou art.

Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that

Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice,

The weakness and the wickedness of luxury,

The negligence, the apathy, the evils

Of sensual sloth—produce ten thousand tyrants,70

Whose delegated cruelty surpasses

The worst acts of one energetic master,

However harsh and hard in his own bearing.

The false and fond examples of thy lusts

Corrupt no less than they oppress, and sap

In the same moment all thy pageant power

And those who should sustain it; so that whether

A foreign foe invade, or civil broil

Distract within, both will alike prove fatal:

The first thy subjects have no heart to conquer;80

The last they rather would assist than vanquish.

Sar. Why, what makes thee the mouth-piece of the people?

Sal. Forgiveness of the Queen, my sister wrongs;

A natural love unto my infant nephews;

Faith to the King, a faith he may need shortly,

In more than words; respect for Nimrod's line;

Also, another thing thou knowest not.

Sar. What's that?

Sal.‍To thee an unknown word.

Sar.‍Yet speak it;

I love to learn.

Sal.‍Virtue.

Sar.‍Not know the word!

Never was word yet rung so in my ears—90

Worse than the rabble's shout, or splitting trumpet:

I've heard thy sister talk of nothing else.

Sal. To change the irksome theme, then, hear of vice.

Sar. From whom?

Sal.‍Even from the winds, if thou couldst listen

Unto the echoes of the Nation's voice.

Sar. Come, I'm indulgent, as thou knowest, patient,

As thou hast often proved—speak out, what moves thee?

Sal. Thy peril.

Sar.‍Say on.

Sal.‍Thus, then: all the nations,

For they are many, whom thy father left

In heritage, are loud in wrath against thee.100

Sar. 'Gainst me!! What would the slaves?

Sal.‍A king.

Sar.‍And what

Am I then?

Sal.‍In their eyes a nothing; but

In mine a man who might be something still.

Sar. The railing drunkards! why, what would they have?

Have they not peace and plenty?

Sal.‍Of the first

More than is glorious: of the last, far less

Than the King recks of.

Sar.‍Whose then is the crime,

But the false satraps, who provide no better?

Sal. And somewhat in the Monarch who ne'er looks

Beyond his palace walls, or if he stirs110

Beyond them, 'tis but to some mountain palace,

Till summer heats wear down. O glorious Baal!

Who built up this vast empire, and wert made

A God, or at the least shinest like a God

Through the long centuries of thy renown,

This, thy presumed descendant, ne'er beheld

As king the kingdoms thou didst leave as hero,

Won with thy blood, and toil, and time, and peril!

For what? to furnish imposts for a revel,

Or multiplied extortions for a minion.120

Sar. I understand thee—thou wouldst have me go

Forth as a conqueror. By all the stars

Which the Chaldeans read—the restless slaves