 | The Piromides |  |
52
ACT IV.
A Chamber of the Temple.HOROS.
The solemn shade of this deep fane, beyond
Whose walls I am permitted not to stray,
Darkens my heart, and pierces with a chill
That still august retreat of lonely hope.
O never may the river which I hear
Murmuring outside my prison, bend its neck
Beneath a foreign yoke; or lofty tow'rs
Of Nile-lav'd Memphis raise a victor's sight
To the yet loftier pyramids! Consign'd
To this dread edifice I look around,
And by the massive gloom of my abode
Repuls'd, my spirit traverses the world,
By memory licensed to retrace my steps
Thro' street and palace, but whose avenues
End not this lengthen'd pilgrimage of woe.
Nitetis! could'st thou hear of my distress,
Thou would'st thy fallen ancestors bewail,
Who honour'd sleep in their ancestral tomb.
They would have succour'd me, have left at large
A mind by habit pleas'd with all that pass'd,
If it were pure! O strange doth it appear
That virtue was not meant to triumph long,
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Ere nature's law-giver impress'd his code
Upon the mind, did he neglect to view
The vision his omniscience pourtray'd?
Or truth had worked to a successful end!
Hark! the forth-rolling echo of a voice
Murmurs its dying terrors in my ears!
A VOICE.
Vengeance is nigh! revenge, revenge, revenge!
HOROS.
A living cavern opens wide its depths
To utter terrors; thro' the sounding walls
And deep resounding domes, the yell of hate
Rolls in articulate thunder; every way
Sound follows sound; the shaking galleries
Are not yet still.
A VOICE.
Revenge, revenge is nigh!
HOROS.
Again, and still afar, the voice is heard,
And what affrighted first, now awes my soul.
The dreadful threat drives like a hurricane
Of super-human power my calmer thoughts
Into their den, and at their alter'd looks
My inward being shudders. Is the threat
Directed at my breast?
A VOICE.
The streets to-day
Shall be thy altar; human forms as thick
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Thy victims, reeking in a pool of gore.
HOROS.
A woman's tongue is this made shrill by anguish.
Her footstep presses near, she smites the doors!
A VOICE.
Horos!
HOROS.
That voice hath a familiar tone.
Now calm'd, it strikes upon a secret tract
Of memory which word of other tongue
Might seek to thrill in vain. Within me now
The well of first affection feels its depths,
Which had been tranquil as the inky flood,
Perturb'd; its now hot current to the wound
Inside my breast brings welcome agony.
NITETIS, HOROS.
HOROS.
I never did anticipate this hour
Or this embrace! come nearer, yet more near.
O sadness! centre of a thousand joys
Let this re-union of dissever'd hearts
Be thy release! to airy sympathy
Dissolve, a feeling to me long denied!
Nitetis! darkness severs yet our eyes.
Then place my hand upon thy regal brow,
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Nor feel the furrows of adversity.
Smile, tho' it be in sorrow, and compose
Thy features into light. Why dost thou weep,
Why tremble in my arms?
NITETIS.
Tho' this dark world
The past hath not so alter'd that no charm
Gleams on us from its prospects, or calm seat
Is seen afar where pensive love may cull
The bliss its melancholy sense desires;
I come not here to claim a lover's vows,
But give release to thee, that thou mayst see
The hand of retribution soften'd down
Into a woman's! More than love I come
To share; thou shalt partake in my revenge.
HOROS.
It shall not be! tho' vengeance may subdue
It cannot vanquish evil. Nature gave
A sword to justice, not of two-edg'd steel,
But fire, which knows to pierce the vicious soul.
Nitetis! when I sigh'd with thee in youth
I ventur'd on my passion to depend,
And claim'd of guardian nature all my wealth
To stake on thee. And then I conjur'd up
The mighty writ which summon'd me to be,
And read to thee the treasures it conferr'd
On its possessor. These to thee I gave,
Gave thee my being! What has since transpir'd
We know too well, nor let me tear afresh,
In utterance, the immedicable wound.
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The virtuous grief, to perish in revenge?
How cam'st thou hither thus mysteriously?
Despite thy claims, my gloomy soul forebodes.
NITETIS.
Thou hast demanded how I hither came,
And I will answer; it was with the king.
Cambyses sits on the Egyptian throne.
Behold me queen of these my native realms,
While the usurper of my father's rights
Is captive in the monolythic house
His predecessor built. The porch at Sais,
Whose pillars stood like living palms, the tomb
Amasis in mock glory fill'd, is rais'd;
He disinterr'd, dishonour'd, scourg'd, and burn'd.
His son, the stern Psammenitos, endures
A punishment scarce less detestable,
Save that the living may survive their shame,
To reap new triumphs o'er their enemies.
The great usurper, now in base attire
Is dragg'd into the suburbs, that his soul
May writhe in torture! Now, before him walk
His children, dress'd as slaves with water-jugs,
And by him stand his lords in filthiest vests,
While to and fro their sons and daughters pace,
Degraded to the dust.
HOROS.
That lofty king
Hath been my sole protector.
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Strange to tell,
The monarch calmly bends him to the earth;
Nor sheds a tear to see his children weep
At their base ignominy. All besides
Have found their souls engulph'd in bitter woe.
HOROS.
Then hath the city yielded up its strength?
NITETIS.
Chilon gave up the city to our hands,
For which he hath refused our recompense,
And passed the flood to his Ionian soil,
Sad at the thought of home. Into my hands
He left his vengeance: and my faithful vow
Piromis! was not register'd in heaven
To only blot the page of destiny
With name of traitors! Horos, thou art free.
HOROS.
Has not the priest a watch around the fane
To mar escape, until the oracle
Pronounce my doom?
NITETIS.
The priest hath heard its voice
“The hour that Horos prematurely dies
Thy temple, Isis, in wide ruin lies.”
HOROS.
That solves the meaning of a short delay:
The priest with death had threatened me!
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With death!
He did withhold the oracle's decree.
Ah! the light rushes on me. Thou shalt find
In me no slow avenger of thy wrongs.
HOROS.
Crush not Piromis in his adverse hour,
Though he deserve no good of thee!
NITETIS.
Alas!
That which I am he made me. Even thou
Knowest not a royal spirit's agony
When cast from high estate to slavery.
With so great sorrow but the fallen gods,
Or monarchs doomed to wander from their homes,
Can bend in sympathy.
HOROS.
Thou art unjust.
Look on this pensive brow which tells the hours,
The nights, the days, the years that I have spent
In grief for thee; and still within is fixed
The stern necessity to meditate,
Without the soothing presence of a tear
To dash the earth in emblem of despair.
When once a curse hath lighted on the soul,
'Tis scarr'd for ever!
NITETIS.
I may serve thee yet.
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No—yet thou may'st: Piromis should be free.
He is too old to die by violence.
His lamp I would see quenched but when the sun
Withdraws all light from his unwaking eyes.
NITETIS.
It is thy first request, and it shall be.
Still is there left for him a punishment.
In Front of the Temple.
CAMBYSES, NITETIS, PSAMMENITOS, SIUPHIS, INAROS, NOBLES.
CAMBYSES.
Nitetis, thou indeed hast led our arms
Into a fertile land. Beneath these palms
Which flank the sacred avenue, I swear
That Persia's line shall here be ever fixed!
Ye who best know your native provinces,
Relate through what unconquered plains this Nile
Descends; its source, and when it overflows.
Where is Piromis? hath not my command
Enforced obedience? He was summon'd here.
INAROS.
I am his son. He sends me with these words:
Piromis can obey no earthly power.
CAMBYSES.
Him next my burning anger shall chastise.
NITETIS.
The priests know best the records of the soil.
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To what thy father, were he here, might tell.
Trace through its course the passage of the Nile.
INAROS.
But who hath reach'd the mountain heart whence gush
The streams of Nile? It distant is conceal'd
In nature's bosom, 'yond Tachompso's isle,
Between us and whose lake-encircled palms
Rise cliffs precipitous on either side
Over the sombre flood; and he who dares
To scale this rushing torrent glides beyond
Thro' rock entangled waves, at length to pause
Beneath two mountains which their viewless peaks
Hide in the liquid unsupported sky.
These at their cincture open to the day
Two fountains whose unending depths conceal
A crystal emblem of eternity.
For, at the confines of the earth controll'd,
They pierce the globe-encircling stream whence seas
And rivers take their earliest draught, by name
Oceanus, and by whose mystic swell
Is caused the yearly flooding of the Nile
At summer solstice. Then the glassy plain
Asserts its kindred with the town-gemm'd waves
Of the Ægean; no dry land relieves
The mounded cities which stand out as isles;
And the gaunt pyramids afar appear
To walk the deep. And now in store are laid
The tamarisk door, which tow'd the vessel down,
And tide resisting millstone, which was slung
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His bybline sails, and steers for many a port
As o'er a sea.
CAMBYSES.
And my victorious troops
Shall penetrate to whence these waters flow.
Let the procession re-commence its march.
Why are those warriors wet with dropping tears?
Do they lament the spectacle which moves
So solemnly along, the noblest youth,
Even their own offspring, chain'd as slaves, and march'd
To greet with dread the executioner?
Or rather they, alas! too late repine
At the untimely murder of my Greeks,
Whom they condemn'd to sudden death unheard.
Thou sullen king inform me why they sob?
Silent and tearless still art thou! Behold,
In yonder temple's porch th' uplifted axe
Removes ten heads for every Greek that fell.
Thy children last shall die to hope prolong
In thy stern breast, that thou may'st last exclaim,
Now am I childless, bare, and destitute!
No axe the burden of thy life shall move.
LADICE.
Where is my slave! hath she forsaken me?
O heaven, remove this curse of prophecy!
Inaros drags Ladice from the procession.
INAROS.
Is this a victim suited to a king?
Look at the fearful anguish which is fix'd
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By new emotion pour'd, the bitter sob,
The feeble scream, O heaven the lifeless frame!
Lifeless! she never shall revive again!
Thus nature's final act I meditate.
O die unconsciously, nor let thine eyes
Expand to look on death; oh! blessed end!
Stabs her.
LADICE.
Slave of my thoughts, too faithful servitor,
Who with thy art encirclest innocence;
Tear the prophetic veil, release this brow
From spells too deep for maiden sight to bear.
What are these horrors, whence do they appear?
Gore-stain'd! O Inaros, I cannot die!
Look at the fate-recording scroll of heaven!
The stars, to thee invisible, repeat
My weary task of deeds not all perform'd.
But love is there unnumber'd!
She rushes into the Temple.
INAROS.
Hath she fled?
O let me follow!
NITETIS.
Stay the murderer!
INAROS.
For but a moment! let me close her eyes,
And then bring back my life!
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Why stand ye thus?
Pierce the offender with a thousand swords!
NITETIS.
Stay! lay not thy hands upon him, spare the youth,
Or I am lost!
CAMBYSES.
What sayst thou?
NITETIS.
He must live!
Secure him; but my motives ask not here.
CAMBYSES.
Can parent glory in a murder'd child?
See ye the smile of irony which moves
The monarch; is there triumph in a slave,
The basest, poorest of all creeping life?
It seems there is, then smite him with thy hand.
Why doth yon mendicant approach the king?
Ah! is his lordly pride at last subdued?
For see, he hides his face beneath his garb.
Altho' unmov'd he saw his children led
To suffer death, and coldly sacrificed
The one whom most he lov'd.
SATRAP.
Why dost thou weep?
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He hears, and scorns to answer! Mendicant,
If thou hast knowledge of his nature, try
To solve the deep œnigma of his wo.
SIUPHIS.
He mourns to see the man who shar'd his board,
Reduced to this condition: see my bonds!
I was his dearest friend, and in his court
I held an envied place ere misery
Thus plac'd a gulph between us.
CAMBYSES.
Thou art false!
Why was he not tormented at the sight
Of children, nearer to his love than thou,
In abject slavery?
SIUPHIS.
Because his woe
Was then too great for tears.
CAMBYSES.
Now do I know
His royal nature. Give to him a robe
Of finest cloth, respect him as a king.
And hasten ye my satraps to the porch,
Lead back his son, if still the youth survive,
That he may know his father's mighty love.
INAROS.
Then have I slain the lovely innocent
Whom now, too late, her destiny would spare.
Give me the sword that kissed her gentle heart,
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Its now repenting point into the seat
Of my affliction!
NITETIS.
Stay his rash attempt.
And now a solemn vow to Chilon made,
To end Piromis' and Siuphis' days,
Recurs: the first shall know, what vengeance is
When born of woman! Mendicant! approach.
Since king Cambyses honors thus his foes,
Thou shalt no longer be in slavery.
SIUPHIS,
aside.
Ripe grows the plot to prove thy prophecy.
NITETIS.
Siuphis, for thy master's sake be free.
Drink of this cup, 'twill cheer thy drooping heart.
He drinks, and soon will know its bitterness.
SATRAP.
As breathless I arriv'd Anysios fell!
No child is left unslain to fill his arms.
CAMBYSES.
Distressful tidings! Let me go and mourn.
END OF ACT IV.
| The Piromides | |