A monologue from the play by Master Byron
NOTE: This monologue is published from Master Byron: 6 Plays. Lord Byron. Los Angeles: Black Box Press, 2007.
SARDANAPALUS: I saw, that is, I dreamed myself
Here—here—even where were, guests even as we were
Myself a host that deemed him self but guests
Willing to similar all in interpersonal freedom
But , on my proper hand and my still left, instead
Of thee and Zames, and our customed meeting
Was ranged on my left hand a haughty, dark
And deadly face, I possibly could not recognise it
But I had viewed it, although I knew not really where:
The features were a giant\s, as well as the eye
Would still be, yet lit, his lengthy locks curled down
In the vast breast, whence an enormous quiver went up
With shaft-heads feathered from the eagle\s wing
That peeped up bristling through his serpent frizzy hair.
I asked him to fill the cup which in turn stood
Between us, nevertheless he answered not, My spouse and i filled it
He took it not, yet stared upon me, till
I trembled at the set glare of his vision:
I frowned upon him as a king should frown
This individual frowned not really in his switch, but viewed me
With all the same feature, which appalled me more
Because it improved not, and I turned pertaining to refuge
To milder guests, and sought them on the right
Exactly where thou wert wont to be. But—
In thy personal chair—thy personal place in the banquet—
I actually sought thy sweet face in the circle—but
Instead—a grey-haired, withered, bloody-eyed
And bloody-handed, ghastly, ghostly thing
Female in garb, and crowned upon the brow
Furrowed with years, however sneering together with the passion
Of vengeance, leering too with that of lust
Sate—my problematic veins curdled! Upon
Her proper hand—her lank, bird-like, right hand—stood
A goblet, bubbling o\er with blood, and on
Her left, another, stuffed with—what I saw not
But turned coming from it and her. Nevertheless all along
The desk sate a variety of crowned wretches
Of various aspects, yet of one appearance.
It was therefore palpable, I really could have touched them.
We turned from a single face to a new, in
The hope to get at last one that I knew
Ere I saw their own: but no—all turned after me
And stared, although neither consumed nor drank, but looked
Till We grew rock, as they appeared half to get
Yet breathing stone, for I believed life in them
And life in me: there is a pudgy kind
Of sympathy among us, like they
Had lost an integral part of death to come to me
And i also the half of life to sit simply by them.
We were in an lifestyle all separate
From bliss or earth—And rather i want to see
Fatality all than such an existence!
At last We sate, marbled, as they, the moment rose
The Hunter as well as the Crone, and smiling about me—
Yes, the increased but rspectable aspect of
The Hunter smiled upon me—I should declare
His lip area, for his eyes relocated not—and the woman\s
Slender lips calm to something such as a smile.
Equally rose, and the crowned statistics on each hands
Rose likewise, as if aping their chief shades—
Pure mimics actually in death—but I sate still:
A desperate bravery crept through every limb
And at the final I feared them certainly not, but chuckled
Full within their phantom confronts. But then—then
The Seeker laid his hand upon mine: I took that
And appreciated it—but that melted coming from my own
Although he as well vanished, and left nothing but
The recollection of a main character, for this individual looked and so.
Aye, Myrrha, but the female
The female who remained, the girl flew upon me
And burnt my lips up with her noisome kisses
And, flinging throughout the goblets on each hand
Methought their harmful toxins flowed around us, until
Each created a hideous river. Still she clung
The different phantoms, like a row of statues
Stood dull such as our temples or wats, but your woman still
Appreciated me, while I shrunk via her, like
In lieu of her remote descendant, I
Had been the son who slew her for her incest.
Then—then—a chaos of loathsome things
Thronged solid and shapeless: I was useless, yet feeling—
Buried, and raised again—consumed by earthworms
Purged by the flames, and withered up!
I can repair nothing additional of my personal thoughts
Save that I longed for the, and wanted for thee
In all these kinds of agonies—and woke and found the.
