804 POE 
chiefly confined to the very beautiful opening of the 
fourth aft, (already adverted to,) which may ftand in 
competition with Richard’s famous foliloquy in the be¬ 
ginning of the tent-fcene ; to the chafte and tender dia¬ 
logue between the doge and his wife in the fecond aft, 
which is perhaps the only inftance we have of a good 
love-fcene between an old hufband and a young wife ; to 
the very interefting and paflionate difcourfe between Ber¬ 
tram and Leoni, which leads to the difcovery of the con- 
fpiracy; and laftly thofe memorable and often-quoted 
words which Bertuccio utters when one of the confpira- 
tors fays —“ If we fail,”—namely, 
They never fail who die 
In a great caufe ! The block may foak their gore, 
Their heads may fotlden in the fun; their limbs 
Be ltrung to city-gates and caftle-walls ; 
Hut Jlill their fpirit walks abroad. Though years 
Elapfe, and others (hare as dark a doom. 
They but augment the deep and fweeping thoughts 
Which overpower all others, and conduft 
The world at laft to freedom. What were we, 
If Brutus had not lived ? He died in giving 
Rome liberty, but left a deathlefs leflon, 
A name which is a virtue, and. a foul 
Which multiplies itfelf throughout all time, 
When wicked men wax mighty, &c. See. 
The flight memorials that remain to us of the hiftory 
of Sardanapalus inform us, that he built two cities in a 
day, inferibed the faft on a pillar, and added, “Eat, 
drink, laugh; the red’s not worth a fillip.” This little 
remembrance leads the fancy to fuppofe that Sardanapalus 
might have been at once a philanthropic prince, and like- 
wile that he was tinftured with a piiilofophy fimilar to 
that falfely called Epicurean, which taught that virtue 
conlifted in pleafure. The idea was taken up by Byron ; 
and, congenial with his fentiments as fuch charafter cer¬ 
tainly is, it was to be expefted that he would have done 
much with it. But to our tafte he has not fucceeded. 
There is indeed a truly original turnabout “Sardanapa¬ 
lus;” but he is apt to be filly at times. He is reprefented 
by his brother-in-law Salamenes as one who has a “care- 
lefs courage,” not entirely quenched by corruption; and 
“ latent energies,” repreft, but not dellroyed, by circum- 
ilances; and that, withal, “if born a peafant,” he 
would have “ readied an empire.” In the next place, he 
is reprefented as very humane and beneficent, that is, he 
rails incefl'antly againft war, and willies only to make his 
fubjefts happy, by taking no further trouble about them 
than fetting a good example of feafting and indulgence. 
His brother afles him, on one occafion, “Wouldft thou 
not take their lives who feek for them?” And he an- 
yvers— 
That’s a hard queftion ; but I anfwer, Yes, 
Cannot the thing be done without.— 
Which is familiar, but very merciful. 
Sardanapalus is very polite, as well as dignified in his 
fiyle. His brother tells him that the people fay he is not 
fit to be a monarch. The king of Babylon, the laft of 
Nimrod’s race, replies “ They lie.” 
He is devoted to the ladies of courfe: 
I would not give the fmile of one fair girl 
For all the popular breath that e’er divides 
A name from nothing. 
He is impious ; when he withes to convert his realms 
into one wide (belter for the wretched, It is favourite girl 
Myrrha infers that he is no god, fince he cannot accom- 
pliftt fo defirable a purpofe. Byron cannot let fuch an 
opportunity (or ftriking a blow at the attributes of the 
All Good and All Powerful efcape him. He makes Sar¬ 
danapalus reply, “ And your gods, then, w ho can, and do 
not ?” To this Myrrha has no anfwer. 
The vanity of Sardanapalus is his next trait. When in 
the midft of danger, his palace furrounded by foes, his 
TRY. 
foldiers waiting his prefence, his dear fubjefts, and, ftill 
more, his lovely Myrrha, in the utmoft peril, he puts on 
his armour very carefully, noting its eflfeft on his ap¬ 
pearance, and then, at the critical moment, calls for a 
mirror to look at himfelf in. It is at this martial toilette 
that we find our hero has nothing of the porter in his 
compofition. He is very impatient of weight. He had pre- 
vioufly faid that he pofleffed a bow, a fword, and a capital 
javelin, “a little heavy, but not unwieldy;” but now the 
helmet is too heavy, and he goes out with his head ex- 
pofed; and his Ihield is too heavy, fo he choofes a light 
cuirafs. 
Silly as much of this is, we cannot help feeling an inte- 
reft in “ Sardanapalus but the piece altogether is de¬ 
faced by the moil familiar and common language; and, 
with the exception of Salamenes, and the prieft confpi- 
rator, there are no other characters worth notice. Myrrha 
may be excepted perhaps. There is the fame unconfe- 
quent dialogue and unnatural reflections as in Marino 
Faliero. A breathlefs foldier, queftioned of the fight, 
talks precifely of the king’s “ fair hair and fair features,” 
and of the “ broad fillet that crowns both.” 
But neither feeble conceptions of charafter, nor bad 
tafte in conftruftion, nor dulnefs of fubjeft, can reftrain 
Byron’s fine flow of poetry from breaking through. 
There are many pafiages of exquifite beauty in Sardana¬ 
palus. Myrrha reflefts on the approaching ruin of aline 
of thirteen ages, then pathetically fays, 
And I too with the great, 
Like a fmall bubble breaking with the wave 
That bore me, (hall be nothing. 
The incident of the foldier (hot through the head whil e 
offering the king water from his helmet is pretty, and the 
king’s remarks on it pathetic. Sardanapalus’s defeription 
of Myrrha in the fight; the who feemed unto the troops 
a prophetefs 
Of viftory, or Viftory herfelf 
Come down to hail us her’s ; 
is very animated and eloquent. 
There is fomething jocund and pleafing in the reflec¬ 
tions of the king on Bacchus; of whom he fays, that of 
his conquefts no memorials remain but a few columns, 
The land-marks of the feas of gore he fhed, 
The realms he wafted, and the hearts he broke. 
But here, here, in this goblet is his title 
To immortality. The immortal grape, 
From which he firft exprefled the foul, and gave 
To gladden that of man, as fome atonement 
For the viftorious mifchiefs he had done. 
*■ ' * a 
He turned a fruit to an enchantment. 
Which cheers the fad, revives the old, infpires 
The young, makes wearinefs forget his toil 
And fear her danger; opens a new world 
When this the prefent falls. 
How dreadfully fublime is the dream, when the king 
fancies himfelf at the banquet, where he fees the “ haugh¬ 
ty, dark, and deadly, face 
I invited him to fill the cup which flood 
Between us, but he anfwered not. I fill’d it. 
He took it not, but flared upon me till 
I trembled at the fixed glare of his eye. 
I frowned upon him as a king fhould frown. 
He frowned not in his turn, but looked upon me 
With the fame afpeft, which appalled me more, 
Becaufe it changed not. 
And then the horrid vifions of his anceftors, the mi- 
fery with which he deferibes how he turned from one to 
another, hoping to fee fome one face he knew : 
But no—all turned upon me 
And flared, but neither ate nor drank, but flared 
Till I grew Hone, as they feemed halt to be. 
Myrrha’s 
