University of Virginia Library

Scene VI.—A Street in Babylon.

Amyntas and Socrates.
Amy.
The royal throne was on the dais set:
The generals' seats were ranged at either side:
The Persian guard kept watch around the hall,
Waiting earth's Master. Sudden, in the midst
A Nubian stood—the meanest of his race;
A moment more, and on that regal seat
The ill-featured shadow sat. They dared not touch him:
The throne makes holy all that rests thereon:
They beat their breasts with wailing long and loud.
The king arrived. Still sat that slave all calm
With smile like that on idol faces vast
Throned 'mid Egyptian sands.

Soc.
They stoned him, doubtless?

Amy.
The king forbade it. On the rack that slave
Confessed no crime: confederates he had none;
Was conscious of no purpose. Like a shaft
Some inspiration from on high had pierced him;
He pushed his spade into Euphrates' slime,
He pushed his way into the royal palace,
And round him stared, enthroned. The king said little:
He took his place, and bade them hold debate.
Now know you why, forth-issuing, men were pale;
Why, here and there, in groups or pairs they whispered;
Why hung that storm upon Seleucus' brow.
Never hath royal throne endured this wrong
That changed not owner soon. The king will die.

Soc.
A rush of citizens. Hark! Hark! they come!

Citizens
(hurrying past).
The king is sick, they say! To the palace on! On!