University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

The Temple.
PIROMIS, HOROS, INAROS, AND CONCLAVE OF PIROMIDES.
PIROMIS.
In conclave here assembled to condemn
The heresy of thy unlicens'd speech,
And fatal deeds, we ask thee to recant
Thy public vows, and henceforth live in peace.
Why, Horos, hast thou grown so impious
To rail with open hate against the will
Of the Eternal? This severe reproach
Is not of me, but issues from these powers
Who sit in judgment on thy blasphemy.
Why dost thou seek to scrutinize those truths
Which mortal must not fathom? Look on me,
The wreck of vain and persevering thought.
I own sad secrets which man cannot hear,
Nor I divulge, too startling to the fears
Of those who in their aspect seldom bear
The hope they feel. Thou too hast walk'd the earth
The sole companion of a silent heart,
While truth in cold and solemn earnestness
Hath but reproach'd thy love: for years must fail,
And age on age must roll ere light prevail.
Would that I were, unless I ever be,
In that great day, with equals circled round!
My track is but ideal as I am,
Tho' feeling what the future has to feel
And sharing glories which exceed my own.
How many thousand years before my time
The debt of this existence is made due,
This intellectual being; how obscure
Is all around the self-illumin'd soul!
And thou would'st seek the final cause which gave
Thee being equal to the universe,—
A lonely plan! Thou mayst attempt to solve
The hidden meaning, but wilt ever find
The problem of existence unresolv'd.
I, a grey-headed worshipper, have pray'd
For truths reveal'd not, but for ever lost
In time's first sepulchre, whose eager gulph
Hath swallow'd up the certitude of all,
Or whence our being came, or whence the world.
'Tis here we find a limit to the soul
Which wanders calmly thro' the systems wide
Only to doubt; for what illusive dream
To thought can reconcile eternity?
These mysteries to fathom, have I spread
The subtle faculty of vision round
The vast expanse, mantling the cluster'd stars
In intellectual light, tho' but to feel
A glow equivalent; to only learn
That thro' the universe content prevails
And all save man is happy! Nature's soul
Beyond her present purpose unendow'd,
Nor with fore-knowledge curs'd like us in vain,
Knows not to question her own safe career.
If she then be immortal, is not man
Who wonders whence this speechless ecstasy
Which permeates creation, and affects
The human spirit with a thrill divine?
And thence a reigning piety prevails
In human hearts, and man has ever lov'd
To visit the abodes of those who dwell
In hallow'd fanes beneath the shade of heav'n.

HOROS.
O thou proud priest, think of thy father-land,
Is it not lost? to think that it should be
In such an age as that which boasts thy name!
Thou who wast delegated from above
With ample power to stamp the nation's brow
With thy mind's aristocracy! Instead
In barter for thy vile idolatry,
O lucre-hearted serpent! would'st thou strip
The poor man of his earnings! Thro' thy deeds
Is Egypt, from whose giant sons have sprung
The nations, in her moral growth cut off;
Her course of human ancestry is run;
The fountains of her unpolluted blood
Must be absorbed in the o'erwhelming flood
Toss'd from barbaric shores.

PIROMIS.
Thy wisdom dreams.
We should unite our sever'd influence
To save the land: or rather in thy youth
Shoulds't thou yield to the elders. If thy pride
Require a higher guide behold the king!
He thinks for millions, and his intellect
Pervades their vacant sense with more effect
Than if th'assembled people felt concern'd
In their own safety.

HOROS.
Cease thy sophistry!
My eyes are lighted at thy crystal heart,
I see inside, unwelcome is the sight.
Thou art endow'd with gifts so manifest
Men dare not analyse thy moral course.
Yet art thou less than mighty! Rules design'd
By predecessors bind thee to thy place.
Beyond the vulgar enterprise of dust,
Thou should'st ascend into untrodden paths,
And test the moral attributes and plans
Of the untaught, the ever-teaching power.

PIROMIS.
All actions perish with the passing time.
Give not the import of eternity
To things of but a day.

HOROS.
Oh idle thought!
Dost thou forget that all eternity
Cannot efface the memory of an hour?
Then since the meanest periods concur
To form that sum of time whereto we fix
Our aspirations, would'st thou desolate
These first foundations of futurity
With recollected crime? The present hour
Is the sole heritage that we possess;
We are but heirs of that which is to come.

PIROMIS.
The truths of Isis rather deem a cure
For the disasters of an earthly lot.

HOROS.
The unmask'd truth is falsehood's only balm.
Thy eloquence, thy looks of piety,
The benefits of station, these have crush'd
The pensive faculty, which grown so poor,
Now seeks for comfort at its fount of woe.
There is a star which from the night of heaven
Looks calmly on this earthly paradise,
And lures the credulous from present toil
Into a mighty future, to descry
Amid the myriads of happy worlds
One blissful hope. And they who watch that star
Forget their woes, and mounting on fond thought,
As if the spirits of a better sphere,
Receive its joys before their future comes.
But while their troubles change to happiness
In watching that one star that seems so bright
And blessed to their eyes, they do not hear
The groans which rise into its atmosphere;
Nor, heedless of each other's miseries,
They feel, thus far away, a sympathy
For sorrows there conceal'd. It is a world
Where in delicious order rang'd are found
Oceans, and isles, and continents, whose soil
Cultur'd by ceaseless spring appears the source
Of all things beautiful. The verdant grass
Border'd by foliage which might yield a couch
For spirits to repose their weary wings,
Waves as the air may move, and in the sun
Bower'd fountains open to distil the cool
Of even, and afford their chequer'd shades
To pilgrims on the way, alas! which leads
To better worlds. For this is not a place
Of peace, save to the deluge of sweet flowers
Varied with leaves, and fruits which nectar pour,
A never ending vintage. Every scene
Has its horizon of delicious light,
So luring all rush forward full of hope
To reach the azure way which still recedes
As fast as they advance, and still attracts
The vain pursuit. Within this lovely world
The disappointed spirits ever long
To see the morrow dawn: in indolence,
Surrounded by the tiresome hours, they watch
The sun, and weary of themselves, still bear
The burden of a mind. And while self-love
Administers to hope, the reverend minds
Of the illustrious old whose age there grows
Immortal, bear their majesty in vain,
For no respect is paid to their hoar locks,
No listening ear to their philosophy.
They live desiring to diffuse those streams
Of wisdom which bring home unto the heart
Its peace; but none obedient to their voice,
The weary waters to their fount divine
Flow back, and no fertility rewards
The sage's arduous toil. There roams all day
The lover of creation to expend
His heart in study of her various plants
And their spring bloom, but with elated breast
No sooner touches he the prospering leaf
Than all the vernal foliage withering droops.
Among these scenes the noble patriot
Lives, as in exile, ready every hour
To sacrifice his life. There none have hearts
Whose feelings counterpoise the weight of life.
Those are most happy who in trouble find
Excitement, draining poetry from tears
To imitate content. Forgive me, priest,
That I compare thy goddess to this star.

PIROMIS.
The holy conclave of Piromides
Condemns thee to a prison in the fane.
There lies the way which leads to it; depart!
If in the gloom inclosed thou should'st permit
Thy fancy to depict a last abode
Look not too far for an inhabitant.
The time is come to contemplate thy end.
Horos is led away.
My son, hath yet the messenger return'd
From Buto, where Latona's oracle
Lives in communion with pervading doom

INAROS.
Along the palmy avenue he comes.

PIROMIS.
His answer may decide the prisoner's fate
The voice is human but the sense divine.
Enter a Messenger.
We here await the oracle's decree.

MESSENGER.
These are the words in solemn accents told:
“The day that Horos prematurely dies,
Thy temple, Isis, in wide ruin lies.”

PIROMIS.
Depart, the holy conclave is dissolv'd.

Enter a Soldier.
SOLDIER.
Holy Piromis, and ye reverend priests,
Haste to the palace. Egypt's shatter'd force
Throngs into Memphis. Close upon the rear
The Persians press; their heralds are arriv'd
To claim the city. Hasten to the king.

PIROMIS.
Fear not, but put thy trust in heaven, we come.

The Palace.
PSAMMENITOS, LADICE, ANYSIOS, SIUPHIS, CHILON, EGYPTIANS, &c.
PSAMMENITOS.
My spirit! still unvanquish'd by thy cares,
Rejoice in thy affection for a child
From birth beloved till now. Grief calms her eyes,
Sorrow is on her cheek, tho' I am come!
Is this to greet my unsuccessful arms?

LADICE.
O heaven, remove this curse of prophecy!

PSAMMENITOS.
In what strange speech doth she address herself?

LADICE.
O my great father, perhaps this pallid look
Hath not received its ransom of the past
In whose sad service I enroll'd myself,
Willing to take the sleepless watch at home.

PSAMMENITOS.
Yet had the past been worse, it now were o'er.
The terrors of the present hourly cease,
And human nature's best philosopher,
Is laughter seated at the bed of wo
To watch her coming end. And tho' her heirs
Press forward, and lay claim to their entail,
They too fall sick: so fatal to possess
On such a tenure as the present hour.
Then fear not for the past, but forward peep
Thro' the bright curtain of futurity.
That which is past hath no external being,
A ghost imprison'd in the memory
To act no further part. The hand points on!
Then rush not down the precipice of time
Where shadows find no walls to stretch upon,
But let the future pause upon thy soul.
It holds of prospects an unbounded store,
With means of triumph, fame, and victory.

LADICE.
Where is my slave! hath she forsaken me?
O heaven remove this curse of prophecy!

PSAMMENITOS.
What doth she mutter thus in mystery?

LADICE.
The greatness of thy soul can never fail
To lead thee on to glory.

PSAMMENITOS.
All at last
Must fail, but, let me perish when I may,
I will not bring dishonour on that tomb
Where monarchs sway the silence of deep death,
And, stretch'd in awful majesty, inspire
With royal hope Time's mystical delay.
Should Egypt perish with me, her old name
Shall not depart the land; her mighty lake,
Her fanes, her death-exalting pyramids,
Her awful tombs, and spell-bound deities,
Are here eternal, and tho' left alone,
Save by the Nile's discoursing sympathy,
Will look with crushing aspect on the wretch
Of other climates and less daring homes.
Hast thou Piromis summon'd from the fane
To meet in instant council?

SIUPHIS.
All the priests
Dispersing from the conclave hasten here,
Pale at disastrous tidings.

PSAMMENITOS.
Then, my son,
Conduct thy sister to a place of rest.
Anysios and Ladice depart.
Who can arrest the flood of destiny?
The weary pulse of nature which connects
The sluices of my life, by links unseen,
Unto the outward destinies of kings,
Does violence within. I feel that doom
Encircles me. The messenger of death
Has warn'd me from the sepulchre to fear
For self-appointed rulers. Yes, I feel
Our name is silent in the haughty past.
The dead whence we descended, unforewarn'd
Of our great rise, recorded not their names
But sleep apart from glory. So our pomp
And pride is centred in ourselves alone.

PIROMIS, and Priests enter.
PSAMMENITOS.
Admit the Greek ambassadors to kneel
Before our throne.
Enter Ambassadors.
Courageous messengers!
We cede ye liberty of speech.

AMBASSADORS.
Oh king!
Cambyses, son of Cyrus, whom we serve
Ordains that thou should'st render up in peace
The city.

PSAMMENITOS.
These were scarce their master's words.
They have indulged in revels, and their speech,
Perverted by the magic of the feast,
Betrays them into treason. Lead them hence.
Capture their vessel, and secure the crew.

CHILON.
Pause yet an instant, awful sovereign!

PSAMMENITOS.
Priests, sages, warriors, the flower and pride
Of this great land! 'tis said that in our port
A ship, with Hellens mann'd, at anchor rides
The tossing flood, awaiting our reply
To some strange mandate that we yoke no more
The fiery war-horse to the chariot,
But lay our freedom at the victor's feet,
And urge his clemency. Who can have heard
This message and preserv'd tranquillity?
To meet reverses, and encounter ills,
Has been, in golden days, the soldier's lot;
But, 'mid the hazards of disastrous war,
When all seem'd adverse, did my father save
This empire from destruction. In those days
Imperial sway grown careless of its power,
The sceptre was transferr'd to firmer hands,
Long held by a grey-headed dynasty.
Where Memphis as a sister stands beneath
Our native pyramids, once flow'd the Nile,
Till wondrous toil diverted from its bed
The sacred stream, uprais'd the city walls,
And form'd yon lake of the redundant flood,
Lake Mæris, whose extent is like a sea.
From yonder date majestic ages sprang;
And a bright race of crowned heroes rose
In bright succession, aided in their deeds
By sages, and ancestral warriors,
And, above all, the pure Piromides,
Who, by the light accorded from on high,
Founded in heaven a starry sepulchre
For our last breath. With such an origin,
And bearing all the honours of our race,
Are we so weak as tacitly to yield
Our dear inheritance? No voice replies!
Arise, ye dreadful warriors, let me hear
Your truth-instilling lessons, wisely claim'd
Of the historic past, if there remain
The man who yet hath fortitude to hold
A beacon to the future.

SIUPHIS.
Solemn king!
Impose not censure on these speechless forms.
This is the burning silence of revenge.
Shouts such as rend the welkin in our dreams
Upon the field of war, rang in our ears;
But as each soul diffus'd them, he forgot
His voice to others should be audible.
In silent speech rapt the war-council sat:
The spell is broken! Is it not a law
Of this existence that determin'd minds
Gain strength by their reverses to perform
Deeds else not made the subject of a dream?
That law our guide, no mortal enemy
Have we to fear; and should the blessed gods
Ordain our courage useless here below,
We meet with glory in an after-world.

PSAMMENITOS.
Then first, what fate assign ye to the Greeks
Who bring this insult hither?

SIUPHIS.
They must die.
How great were they with Persian consequence;
And how their lofty manner signified
That this was conquer'd land! For this they die—
Not for their office, but their fearless looks.

CHILON.
Siuphis, why insult a royal mind
Whose policy was never to exceed
The rules of war, or openly transgress
The laws of nations? should a fresh defeat
Succeed such crimes, is there a neighbouring state
Would aid us outlaw'd by cold-blooded deeds,
And infamous for acts of cruelty?
So far O king! I plead for honor's sake,
An urgent monitor; now let me name
My services, tho' poor; I am a Greek,
And love my long-neglected countrymen.
Their only error is fidelity.
To-day this empire is a mighty one,
But what does this avail? Futurity
Holds a commission to avenge the past!
If thou would'st conquer let a kingly thought
Move thy clench'd features to relenting smiles,
That first on thy high brow may shine the light
Of self-won conquest.

PIROMIS.
That which I would say
I speak in parable, convinc'd meantime
No foe should find indulgence in this land.
There is a place in rocky Araby
Whence the wing'd serpents issue on their flight,
At earliest spring, to fertilizing Nile.
But in their passage thro' the long defile
Of mountain crags, behold, the fighting bird
Black Ibis, vulture-bill'd, in myriads
Destroys them near their entry to the plains,
Where their bleached spines collect in pyramids.
And hence in Egypt these crane-legged fowl
Are most esteem'd of all the feather'd tribe.
The sacred bird may be thy monitor.
But to the disaffected people give
The work of death, that they the more may dread
The triumph of the rude barbarians,
And meet the foe with obstinate despair.

PSAMMENITOS.
Thy subtle policy is good. They die.

PIROMIS.
Still on the face of this great argument
The cause of Egypt's loss hath not appear'd.

PSAMMENITOS.
Religious nature so ordain'd her laws,
That priests should be the wisest of mankind.
The ear of gods is patient to their prayer.
'Tis well, for in the hallow'd conference
Of soul and elder Immortality,
The forms are awful save to purest minds.
Why then was lost the battle? To the throne
Of watchful Isis whose high minister
Thou art below, make thou thy offering.
Then may the cause approach thy pious mind,
Presented in the image of a thought
Before thy reason. For, O Priest, I know
That by no sudden miracle is wrought
Thy wondrous skill, but thro' accustom'd laws.
As nature here, so nature 'yond the sky.

PIROMIS.
The cause was manifest in yonder fane
Ere, blindly, thou didst gather to the field
Thy conquer'd armies.

PSAMMENITOS.
Let it be reveal'd.

PIROMIS.
There is a sage of Memphis who perverts
The use of nature's gifts with a desire
To overthrow the servants of the gods.
As thou didst fear to crush this heresy,
How couldst thou look for other than defeat?

PSAMMENITOS.
Should Horos suffer death, thou well mightst fear
Nitetis, link'd to him by ties of love,
Lest she, the instigator of this war,
Should swifter bring her armies on thy fane.

PIROMIS.
Entrust his doom to the Piromides.

PSAMMENITOS.
Not as thou wilt, but listen to my speech.
Latona's monolythic temple stands
At Buto on the margin of the lake,
Where Chemmis laden with her palmy groves
Floats unrestrain'd by the subaqueous soil.
Send thither, and enquire the will of heaven.

PIROMIS.
In thy defeat the will of heaven is known.

PSAMMENITOS.
Do as thou wilt, I yield him to thine hands.

The Priests depart.
PSAMMENITOS, SIUPHIS, CHILON.
PSAMMENITOS.
With yesterday the hope of Memphis fell.
Disgraced, defeated, wounded to the soul,
The army here returns, and it presents
A remnant only of the host which left
A well-appointed force in bright array.
The spears, which like a forest mov'd along,
Now, as the axe had fell'd them, grounded rest
Against the weary arms of pensive men;
And downward hangs the drooping warrior's head.
Let me invoke the latent energies
Of each unconquer'd soul to render up
What means of providence may yet remain
To meet the coming danger, and let loose
Such terrors on our else unmarshall'd fears
As discipline despair. Pause not an hour.
This moment at our gates the conqueror
Fraught with unquench'd ambition may surprise
Th'unwary sentinel, and sleeping troops.

CHILON.
My King, the fervour of a Greek forgive
That he oppos'd thy councils: thou art just!

PSAMMENITOS.
I lov'd thy fervour, and thou art forgiven.
Chilon, descend into the palace court,
Now fill'd with soldiers; thou their numbers lead
Tow'rds the great pyramids to meet the foe,
There march them to the sounds of victory.
For after absence from their native plain,
A spot so fill'd with antique majesty
Will thrill a chord of honour in their breasts,
And whisper what they were. And thou my friend!
Siuphis, the most favour'd of my court,
Companion of my board in brightest days,
Collect the barks of Memphis as a guard
On the broad river whose parental flood
Protects the gates of this metropolis.
Appoint thou also messengers to Thebes,
That all possessing lands and fit to hold
The battle-axe and wear the crested helm,
May hasten hither; and that capital
Warn with a saving angel's eloquence
To rise in arms against the Persian powers.

CHILON
alone.
Then that must be which cannot be revers'd.
But these world-cresting pyramids shall pass
To other hands, and liberty no more
Shall view the monuments of its own soil.
Soon shall the pipes accordant to the dirge
Of Maneros, awaken woman's grief;
And woman with her bosom wildly bar'd,
And waist ungirdled, shall in sorrow beat
Her breast, and utter, Memphis is no more!
For the last time the priests, to awe mankind,
Shall bear the painted corse before the feast,
And warn men to be merry for a day!
Henceforth shall all behold this boasted Nile,
Where river horses gambol round the barge,
And crocodiles with open jaws observe
The fragile forms of men,—as wretched slaves.
The golden phœnix spreads his scarlet plumes
No more for Heliopolis; nor brings
His father, rapt in myrrh, from Araby
To bury 'neath the temple of the Sun.