The fall of Nineveh :: :: University of Virginia Library

From giddy summit of the palace roof,
The queen, meantime,—though through her brain and heart
Rushed the tumultuous blood,—upon the field
Long had stood gazing. With unsteady eye,
And thoughts distracted, looked she; nor had marked,
In that vast hell of war, the single fall
Of even Assyria's greatest: yet too well
The fatal signs of utter rout at hand
She saw; and, though for action all unfit,
In her soul thus: “Once more will I go forth,
And cheer the soldiers. Haply, as the voice
Of Peresh warned me, death may be the fruit.
I feel it may,—for fire is in my blood,
And in my brain: yet better far to die,
Than in this day of terror hold aloof,
And live but to behold Assyria's might
Pass like a shadow: for, this battle lost,
All is for ever lost!”

Resolving thus,
Her chariot, ready waiting for the word,
She summoned: on her head a helmet fixed;
Braced on her arm a shield; a spear caught up;
Swiftly descended; sprang into her car;
And through the sounding streets, like tempest flew.

Nearing the gate of Palms,—for there she had marked
The struggle hardest—a great throng she met,
Franticly flying. Them, with words of fire,
She shamed, and bade turn back.

As with new life
Suddenly gifted, they the summons hailed;
And with a deafening shout, “The queen! the queen!”
Again to combat hasted. On went she,

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Crying aloud; “Assyrians, now be men!
Let not the rebel boast again to have seen
Your backs in battle. This day must ye come
Triumphant from the field; or on your necks
Will chains be fixed; your sons will be made slaves;
Your daughters, and your wives, be concubines!
Your temples, and your altars, and your groves,
Will be cast down; the city of your birth
Will be a waste and howling wilderness!
On, on, brave men! this day redeem your fame!
Conquer,—and once again shall Nineveh
Be queen of all the earth; and at your feet
The vanquished foe shall lie! On then! press on!
A noble death far better than mean life!
Shame to the coward, glory to the brave!”

With words like these,—as still, from place to place,
Swiftly she flew,—the ardent did she fire,
The cold incite,—that all who heard, or saw,
Again for battle burned; and, as one man,
Sprang on the foe anew. But nought availed.
As well, against the angry thunderer,
Might strive the inferior gods, as, 'gainst the force
Of the terrific Mede, Assyria's arms,
Though of the bravest banded. Backward still
Did they retire; and still, with heart elate,
Bore on the enemy.

Nigh unto the wall
The chariot of the monarch had arrived,
When, suddenly recovering, wildly round
His eyes he cast; and horrible rout beheld
Still raging. Feeble were his limbs; his brain
Confused, and swimming; yet, with strong resolve,
Sitting erect; “Turn instantly the steeds,
And back into the fight!” he cried. “Be sure
The gods will give us yet the victory.
The fire is kindled,—but the victim still
Unharmed will rise. Shout out, ‘the king! the king!’
And pour into the battle!”

Crying thus,

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With trembling arm he lifted up his spear,
And strove to stand: but, with yet fiercer gripe,
The spasm returned; and, senseless as a corpse,
Rigid, and horribly convulsed, he fell,
Foaming, and stony-eyed. Within their arms
The weeping captains held him; while again
Tartan the steeds turned round; and rapidly
Drove onward through the gate.

Arrived at length
Within the palace, to his couch was borne
The exhausted king. Again the spasm had ceased;
But, helpless as a dreaming child he lay;
With wandering eye, that nought appeared to see;
Mind, that nought seemed to know. Without a word,
Upon the captains idly did he gaze,
As, piece by piece, his armour they removed:
From Peresh then, with trembling hand, and look
Submissive as an infant, took the cup;
Slowly the strong and bitter potion drained,
Unmurmuring; and, with a vacant smile,
Upon his pillow gently sank to rest.

The roar of battle seemed to stir him not:
At times, when some enormous cry burst forth,
His eyes he opened, and rolled wildly round,
As he would question: but, in little time,
Again they closed; and, with a placid look
Of mindless life, he lay, while through his frame
The potent drug, with swift and silent foot,
Stole onward; locking, at its magic touch,
Each gate of sense, by which the grosser world
External, to the ethereal world within,
The realm of soul, finds entrance. A deep sleep,
Dreamless, and death-like, on him fell at last;
Body and spirit slumbered. Well for him,
For all, had he ne'er wakened!

But, meantime,
Avenging Fate slept not. With every hour,
More hopeless for the Assyrians grew the strife.
Yet still, while with them stood the heroic queen,

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Madly they fought: in heaps on heaps they died;
And still the living, as for death athirst,
Flew headlong to the fight.

The ceaseless cry
Of the distracted queen, amazed they heard;
Yet knew not that 'twas frenzy fired her now.
O'erwrought at length, a hideous laugh she raised;
Staggered, and backward fell.

With tenderest care
Was she upraised, and to the palace borne.

But cooling herbs, and drinks, no soothing brought:
All night, in strong delirium did she rave:
Now, as in battle, gaily cheering on;
Now, as beside her dying brother's couch,
Gently consoling: bursting now in tears,
As though beside his corse again she knelt;
And now, with hurried whisper, to her child,
Counselling flight. But, ever and anon,
Chief burthen of her frenzy, rose the cry,
“On, on, brave men, to victory, or to death!
See! see! they fly, they fly! the day is ours:
Pursue! pursue! ha! victory, victory!”

So all the night she raved; nor, till the eve
Of the next day, found rest.

As though with her,
Assyria too had fallen,—in hideous rout
Fled the scared host. The choked-up gates refused
To myriads entrance; and, till closed the day,
The sword was busy. Thousands, to the banks
Of the swoln flood driven back, plunged in, and died:
Thousands, down trodden, lay, and rose no more.
Darkness fell thick; and Death was satiate.

The Median signal of recall rang loud.
Anon the watch-fires blazed: the voice of joy
Was heard within the camp: but, in the walls
Of long triumphant Nineveh, the sounds
Of anguish, lamentation, and despair!