Class PTzA^. Rook , ,Y?r^W THE DAUGHTER OF THE AIR IN FIFE ACTS, AFTER THE IDEA OF P. CALDEROiV, BY D R . E^RAUPACH. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN. , < ,*****"«»» LONDON WILLIAM MARSH, 145, OXFORD STREET. 1831. 2 7*7 1/^ LONDON: Printed by W, GLINDON, 5i, "Rupert Street, Hay market, u Unquestionably this imitation of Calderon is one of Raupach's most beautiful productions ; yet it is better fitted for reading than representation, except when a very distinguished talent can be found for the principal character." Nord-deutcher Courier, March 13, 1830. (Hamburg.) " The Daughter of the Air, by Raupach, has been re- viewed by the formerly so discriminating and equitable author of u Views of Art and General Literature," in No. 50 of the W. G. Nachrichten, in certainly an unfavourable manner, on which account a second view may be permitted. The Poem is to oe had pri:n ted, and we appeal to the unprejudiced feeling of every reader of taste and sense for poetry whether he does not feel himself equally car- ried along with the imaginative flight and the boldness of the thoughts and the whole action of the piece, and inwardly enamoured of the beauty and polish of the diction, of the clearness and vivid- ness of the pictures. The subject is mythic, and opens a wide field for the fancy : yet we are not revolted with any thing fantastical, and every thing is kept within the bounds of poetical probability. The conception of the whole is neither extravagant nor injurious to our sympathy, but magnificent and truly tragic. The heaven- storming queen must at last learn that she cannot find the object of her endeavours upon earth, and ends with the hope there* to be united with the throne of the king of light. Over against this stands in counterpart to, and richly atoning for all that is terrible, the purest humanity, the noblest, most exalted love in Menon and Alilat, and yet at the same time all excessive and sickly pathos is strictly avoided. But as the piece is throughout poetically conceived, so must it be also poetically comprehended and exhi- bited, and that is what the reviewer must detach, if the value of the poem is to remain undiminished. Our stage throughout does not pos- sess the means of representing such a tragedy in a deserving manner, That is bad, but still it is so, and I should be surprised if it was net by this time obvious even to the most dim-sighted. It seems how- ever a duty to say this explicitly and openly, that we may not hear again repeated the old and very groundless accusation that the public of this place shews no sympathy for serious poetry, for tragedy. Let it be represented as it deserves, and it will be valued as it deserves. Why does Menon, from whom yet so much is taken away, why does Alilat herself find so much sympathy ? Tiridates on the con- trary reminds us of Roderick, as Semiramis of Kunigunde If— -It is better to let compositions, of which the representation requires ex- traordinary talents, lye by until we are provided with such, than by overhasty and unwise occupation of principal characters to bring the reputation of our stage in danger. F. lt"—Litterarische Miscellen, March 13, 1830. (Hamburg.) " Not all that gives the poet opportunity to shew that he is a poet, is a. good poem, not every good poem that bears the title dramatic, is therefore dramatic, and so happens it to be in the case of the *i.e. In the other world. Alluding to the last words of Act V. Sc.13. -•-Alluding to a popular burletta, entitled Roderick $ Kunigunde. Winter-Semiramis* of the much-esteemed Mr. Raupach. As poetry the poem is in the highest degree valuable ; but as dramatic, in respect of invention and cut, it must expect to stand a parr of dozen of criticisms, and will with difficulty on any German Thea- tre — were it even better fitted for such representations than our Dammthorberg-*- reckon on unanimous and decisive applause." Der Freischutz, March 13, 1830, No. 11, prefixed to a long and clever criticism on the abovementioned representation of it, in that and the following number of that most delightful of the German periodicals. In quoting these opinions of the German critics, (which could have been made tenfold more numerous) I do not mean to give them as my own, being indeed directly opposed to some of the as- sertions maintained m them r .especially that one that it is not dra- matic, which is directly asserted by the last critic, and which seems implied by all of them in speaking of it as a work fitter for reading than for the stage. On the contrary, I could not name any play to which the character of dramatic is more peculiarly appropriate, or that is more expressly adapted for stage effect in particular : there being only one single scene that is an exception, while there are many on the other hand that seem introduced for little else than stage effect. In addition to this, the scenery and decorations are the most magnificent, imposing, and sublime that it is perhaps possible to conceive : and depending not on the profusion of splen- dour and expense employed, but on the good taste and study of effect displayed in the execution. Lastly, it is not only one of the best, but one of the easiest acting plays in existence: requiring (with a very few exceptions) no exertion in any of the p.-»rts, nor anything more than to be well understood and entered into. — The view of the poetical character of the work in the second extract is much juster than the other remarks, and perhaps gives as just a view of the peculiar characteristics of this singular production as a mere outline could do. He very properly observes, or rather inti- mates, the double plot (in the three last acts) of Semiramis on the one hand, and Menon and Alilat en the other : which however is so contrived (as will be shewn elsewhere) as not to break in the slightest degree the unity of the action. I shall not however here enter into any extended criticism either on the general conduct of the whole, or the poetical beauties of each individual scene: partly because it is better to let the reader at first judge of those for him- self, and secondly, because I shall have ample opportunity to recur to the subject at leisure in a dissertation that I have in hand on tragedy in general, in which the present work is considered in parti- cular, and the opinions of Aristotle, and other eminent critics, are examined and controverted. For the present I shall only observe that the two primary sources of its interest (to my view) are, the character and situation of Semiramis throughout, and the part of Menon in the two last acts, besides that which is more particularly considered in the preface, the historical interest derived from the persons and the scenes of the action ; and lastly, the originality, novelty, and variety of the whole. * So called to distinguish it from Rossini's, to which, being his favourite one, he gives the name of Summer-Semiramis. PREFACE. AS this tragedy is essentially historical, that is not merely founded on history, but deriving a very principal part of its interest from the sub- ject Toeing" familiar and pre-eminently interest- ing as matter of history to almost every reader — and the more so from the scene of action having been recently the object of the researches of so many travellers, especially English, almost as much as the plain of Troy was formerly — it is necessary in the first place to give an account of the existing narrations, both historical and poetical, on which it is founded : especially as they are followed much more closely in this piece than is usually the case in works of fic- tion. Of all the existing ancient histories of Semi- ramis by far the amplest and most interesting is that of Diodorus : it is also the most ancient, being entirely taken from Ctesias, who lived only fifty years later than Herodotus. The principal other accounts are those of Justin, Suidas, Plutarch, and a short account from a lost historian given by Diodorus himself, at the end of his own account of her. Besides these, there is a very ample and cu- rious, but somewhat apocryphal account of her and of the ancient history of Assyria by the Armenian historians, in that very interesting and valuable work of Cirbeid and Martin, en- yi PREFACE. titled " Recherches curieuses sur 1'histoire an- cienue de l'Asie," Paris, 1806. It is surprising that a history so celebrated, wonderful and poetical in all its parts as that of Semiramis should never have bsen attempted by any ancient poet in any form whatever, either dramatic, epic, or descriptive : which apparently can only be attributed to the egotism of the Greeks, and the imitative character of the Latin poets. In modern times, the queen of Assyria has furnished the subject of at least eight differ- ent dramas, in the following order : (1) Calde- ron, first part: (2) second part, both about the year 1640: (3) Crebillon, 1717: (4) Metastasio, 1729 (an opera): (5) Voltaire, 1748: (6) Ayschou, 1776 : (7) Rossi, 1823, an opera; (ap- parently only written for Rossini's music) : (8) Raupach, 1827 (printed 1829). I have included Ayschou in the number, because his play was acted and printed in London as an original work, with a prologue by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, though it is only a free translation of Voltaire's: and Rossi's opera is little more. All these, however, excepting Calderon's, have no- thing in common with either Diodorus or the present work, having treated the subject in an almost entirely fictitious manner, apparently for the sake of conforming it to the pedantic rules of Aristotle and the French critics, by which the whole of the romantic part of the narrative is sacrificed, and the tragedy is reduced to the level of one on any ordinary subject. They may therefore be compared with each other, but not with the present work, except to con- trast with it. The production of Calderon, on which this is avowedly founded, consists of two different plays though connected with each other ; the PREFACE. vil former representing Semiramis iil her youth, the latter in her age, with an interval of twenty years between them. These two are widely different from each other, both in a historical and poetical point of view. The former, as far as it goes, has very accurately followed the nar- rative of Diodorus : and though with a pretty considerable quantity of nonsense is for the most part highly poetical and spirited through- out. The second is quite the reverse. The sole historical foundation of it is a single cir- cumstance mentioned by Justin, (and which is itself very much altered by Calderon to suit his purpose) with perhaps a hint or two picked up from other writers. The action is much more that of a comedy than a tragedy, and the poetry with a few exceptions, is as indifferent as the plot. — Raupach has used the materials before him in a manner at once the most simple and the most judicious possible, and which might serve as a model to any one in attempting a work of the same sort. He has only followed two au- thors, Calderon and Diodorus: the rest, both verse and prose, he appears entirely to have neglected. The first play of Calderon being both poetical, serious, and in accordance with history, has been closely followed by him in the two first acts, and some of the scenes copied almost verbatim, with such occasional transpo- sitions and other alterations as were necessary for clearness and consistency : but the second, being very different in all these respects has been very diiferently used by him. The space of time occupied in it he has transferred to the two last acts, and begins it exactly in the same place : but the resemblance is scarcely percep- tible beyond the first scenes of the fourth act; rid in the fifth he has entirely deserted his pre- \ 111 PREFACE. decessor, and followed the more simple, and at the same time much more poetical account of Diodorus, except in the manner of Semiramis\s death. The third act is entirely his own, and it is observable that it is the first time that the death of Ninus has ever been brought on the scene, though it has been the primary circum- stance of almost every play of which Semiramis has been the subject. He has however given it an entirely new character by making his death by poison not the work of Semiramis, but of himself, which is in every respect better than the commonly received narration. All relating to Menon and Alilat in the three last acts is also original. The account of the taking of Bactra in the sixth scene of the second act, as also all mention of the Bactrian war itself, is taken from Diodorus, Book II. chap. 6. Of the persons, the following are historical : Ninus, Semiramis, Ninyas, Menon, Alilat, (called Sosana in Diodorus, and there said to be the daughter, not sister of Ninus,) and the kings of Bactra and India. All these (except the two last) are also in Calderon ; and Alilat, under the less appropriate name of Irene, ap- pears already as Ninus's sister ; also Belsazar and Nergal under different names, which being Greek and not Assyrian, Raupach has very rightly altered. All the rest are of his own in- vention : and are remarkable for that exquisitely classical propriety which is a distinguishing cha- racteristic of the whole play. This is, I believe, as much information on the subject as the reader will wish for: aesthetical criticism I purposely abstain from for good rea- sons: I will however observe the singular, and in some respects unique advantage that this play possesses in its subject. It is the mythic PREFACE. IX age of oriental history: and bears the same re- lation to it as the war of Troy to the history of Greece. It has indeed in several respects the advantage : from its more remote antiquity, (a pre-eminence in which it stands alone above every other in existence, being the very remot- est period of all profane history, and conse- quently possessing the remarkable and exclu- sive distinction of being the very most ancient event in all history that could be chosen for the subject of a drama,) the union of oriental mag- nificence along with pristine simplicity, and. above all, from not being, like the other, a hack- nied subject; and one therefore which unites the attraction of novelty with that of celebrity. There is a peculiar pleasure in seeing the scanty outline afforded by history wrought up into a beautiful and glowing picture, and at the same time so filled up as to preserve faithfully the traces of the original sketch, and to see persons who lived three thousand years ago brought as it were present before our eyes, and represented speaking and acting as we may suppose them really to have spoken and acted : the more so from being engrafted on a modern work, and one too of a classical character, (Calderon being to Spain quite what Shakspeare is to us,) which renders the transition from the scantiness of the history to the copiousness of the tragedy less direct and gratuitous. For example, in the history of Diodorus Ninus only threatens Menon with the punishment which is here in- flicted on him, which he to avoid puts an end to himself. To have on this narrative alone founded all the part that is given to Menon in this tragedy, would have been perhaps too great a departure from historical tradition, though even that might be excused by the singularity X PREFACE. and interest of that part : bat the transition to this from the narrative in Calderon is perfectly natural, and such as would suggest itself to almost any reader. In Calderon, Ninus not only makes the threat, but puts it in execution, after which Menon appears in the same part as in the conclusion of the second act of Raupach, and with this Calderon's first play ends. After that he appears no more in the scene, but in the second play Calderon incidentally alludes to his fate, in which he again returns to the historical account, representing his death as perpetrated by himself in despair: c< For in darkness and contempt On he lived until, despairing, Whether from despite or anguish He within Euphrates 1 river Sought a watery monument.'^?* 209.*) The part of Alilat is derived from Calderon in a similar manner. This tragedy is a striking instance of the im- portance of adhering as closely as possible to history (both in facts and costume") in works of historical fiction, and never departing from it except where there is a positive reason for doing so : and consequently a refutation of the theory, more common in the last century than the present, that such matters were not the concern of the poet, but only of the critic and historian, and that on the contrary he was at liberty to feign to any extent he pleased. A still more pointed illustration of this will be found in the comparison of two works on a subject closely allied to the present, Sardanapa- lus'sind The Fall of Brobdinag. These, which * The citations from Calderon are taken from Gries's German translation of that poet's works* of which this play forms the fourth volume. PREFACE. XI as well as the splendid painting on the same sub- ject, would furnish very ample materials for criticism, I must leave for the present from want of room, but shall probably recur to on some other occasion. As to my own translation and my opinions on the subject, not having room to enter on that question here, I will refer the reader once for all to Cowper's admirable preface to his trans- lation of Homer. His sentiments, as far as re- gards the principles of translation, are almost exactly my own. Another branch of this sub- ject, w r hich the nature of his work (being a trans- lation of the first poet of all antiquity) precluded his entering into, namely, the use and value of poetical translations in general, (including the present one in particular) and which well de- serves a separate dissertation in itself, 1 must leave for a future occasion, having already made this preface longer than I wished or intended. I w T ill only observe that the name of Raupach at least is already known to the English public, not only by the mentions of him in the Foreign Quarterly Review, where he is reckoned among the very first dramatic poets of Germany, but also by a translation of his beautiful tragedy of the Serf, or Isidor and Olga, which was both acted and published * here three years ago, and in both shapes attracted some degree of attention at the time, but which, notwith- standing (as I was informed) the confident ex- pectations of the managers, and the highflown panegyric of the editor on the great improve- ment it had undergone by being " altered and adapted to the English stage," soon sunk into oblivion. The fact is, it is so altered, that no * In Cumberland's British Theatre, No. 128. X*i PREFACE. idea can be formed from it of the character of the original, and I believe few will agree with the editor that "the English dramatist," as he calls him, "has turned to the best account the materials that were before him, and engrafted others that are original with equal success, 9 ' or that he " has displayed much skill in height- ening the characters, and arranging what may be termed the business of the scene. ' This, however, I am more disposed to attribute partly to the difficulty of translating his author's lan- guage, and partly to the negligence and bad judgment of the English dramatist himself, ra- ttier than his incapacity, as he has translated some passages with much spirit and fidelity, and I doubt not could greatly improve the whole .should he revise it for a second edition. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Ninus, King of Assyria. Ninyas, his Son. Menqn, TlKIDATES, Arzidas, TlSSAPHERNE.S Otanes, Arbaces, Belesis, }- Assyrian Nobles. N e r gal, Tutor of Ninyas . Belsazar, a Priest of Astaroth ( Goddess of the Moon and of Love J. Labenit, Menons Servant. Ihree Assyrian Officers. 1 wo Assyrian Soldiers. 8 amarij a, King of India. An Indian Officer, Alilat, Sister of Ninus. Semiramis, the Daughter of the Air. Mylitta, her Confidant. An Attendant of Alilat. Arabian and other Kings as Vassals. The King of Bactra and his three Sons as Prisoners, DRAMATIS PERSOXJE. Assyrian Generals, Officers and Soldiers. Indian Priests. Huntsmen. Servants and People. Scene : —In the First Act : The Country about the Dead Sea, then Nineveh, then Menon's Garden on the Euphrates : — In the Second: The Country about Bactra, then Bactra itself : — In the Third: A Mountain-wood in Media: — In the Fourth: Babylon built by Semiramis, then the Country near and in the above-mentioned Mountain- wood : — In the Fifth : Different Places on the Indus. THE DAUGHTER OF THE AIR. ACT I. SCENE I. Wild mountain scenery by the Dead Sea; a cave in the hack ground. Huntsmen's horns heard in the distance. Semtramis in the cave; Belsazar. Semi ram is (knocking violently at the door). Hear me, Belsazar! hear me! hear me! Open the door or else 1 burst it. Belsazar (entering). Why make you this disturbance, restless child? Semiramis. Open the door ! Belsazar. It is not yet the time. Semiramis. Not yet the time! (the music sounds again.) Hear st thou my mother's voice ? Hear'st thou ? She asks thee moaning for her child. Belsazar. ? Tis not thy mother's voice thou nearest, fool. How can'st thou either know thy mother's voice, Who never yet hast known thy mother's self? Semiramis. By my heart's beating do I know the voice Even tho' my ear had never heard the sound. b2 Z THE DAUGHTER ACT I. Open this door or else I burst The vaulted cavern with my cries. Belsazar (looking anxiously to the right J, Hush! no more noise, ungovernable child! If further ought thou striv'st against the doom Which, well thou know'st, the gods themselves decree. So sure this day I hide thee in a hole, As far below the ground that now thou tread'st, As high above the eagle soars in air. (Still looking to the right, to himself.) Yes — men! — and coming here — and breaking through The fence, which, mindful of the gods' decrees, Myself "had raised, to guard the spot secure. Mexox (behind the scene). Make room, and follow me ! Belsazar. O rash intruder ! SCENE II. The above. Enter Mexon with Labexjt and Attendants. Mexox. Here is a man, and by his look, a priest, Who may from out this rocky labyrinth Shew us the way. Belsazar. That will I gladly, sir ; The surest of the hunters will I give thee : Yet must thou haste to reach 'ere fall of night A hospitable roof amid the plain. Mexox. Then let us wait no longer ! Belsazar. Follow me! SC II. OF THE AIR. Menon (to the hunters). You, call with lively notes our lost companions, Dispersed amid the wood to seek the way. ( The hunters sound their horns.) Semibamis. Cruel tormentors ! will you yet Not give me life? Unhappy I! Why did you wake me out of death ? Men ox. What sounds are these from out the womb of earth? B elsazar (pressing!*/) . Come, let us wait no longer ! Menon (looking about him). Hold, priest, hold ! What do I see ? A door in yonder rock. B elsazar (aside). O day of coming ruin ! Menon (knocking at the door of the cave). Lives there here A human being prisoned in this rock? Semiramis. save me ! save a human being* From out this dreadful living grave ! Menon. That will I. — Tell me, Priest, have you the key? B elsazar. 1 have it safe. Menon. Then give it ! B ELSAZAR. No indeed ! Menon. You will not give it ? Know then I am Menon, To whom the rule of all this mighty land Between Euphrates and the Arabian Sea Assyria's monarch, Ninus, has assigned. B ELSAZAR. Then, it is true, I cannot hope to stand 4 THE DACTGKTER ACT I, Against thy might : yet ere in setting free This child., thou treadst upon, yea, oversteps t The open threshold of destruction, hear me! Fade will the flowering laurel of thy head. Mute be thy fame, and fall to earth in ruin The stately tower of thy prosperity. If e'er thou sett'st the fated prisoner free. Menon. Speak plainly. Priest ! who is this mystic being. And what oifence atoning bides she here? Belsazar. As once from Ascalon returning home I reached the entrance of yon range of hills, I saw, descending from a mountain's brow, A wonderous prospect in the vale below. In a wide area furious contest waged Lion and jackaiL panther, wolf and bear, With owl and raven, vulture, hawk and crane, And other beasts beside with other birds «* Of tribes more numerous than my eye could con Within the circle, on a bed of palms, A new-born infant lay ; assiduous doves> Forgetting their timidity, flew round The infant's head, and tender nutriment Into the rose-bud of its lips instilled. This when I saw. I knew that Earth and Air Strove here together on the infant's life. That, by the wild beasts^ fury to destroy, TAis, by the birds' protecting care to save. I came up near, and beasts and birds dispersed : I took the infant up and brought it home. Then fearing at the unwonted prodigy, I counselkd Astaroth, the mighty goddess In whose dread service flows my life away : ' ; The infant's mother/' said she " is Derceto, tf The queen of air, who in clandestine love " Link'd with a mortal, brought this child to lig] " Woe ! woe to men, if e'er mature of age ; She treads the stage of life : destruction bring " She will to whosoever comes her near, -' And many will come near, caught with the charm SC\ II. OF THE AIR. " Of her bright beauty and her glowing words. " And war and bloodshed, rapine, mutiny, " Treason and death shall follow on her steps, " Until herself she drives upon destruction. " Menon. And therefore in this dungeon must she pine, Poor victim of a dubious oracle ? Belsazar. Yes, she herself, Semiramis, so called Because the birds her infant life preserved. This cave, her cradle once, her dwelling now, Shall yet the same be one day hence her grave : So wills the awful goddess Astaroth. She fears lest one day hence Semiramis To those who love her bringing fatal ill Should take from men the confidence of love. Already twice nine years I guard her here, Nought knows she yet of earth beside this rock, And the dark level of yon poisonous lake, Nought of the world save what to her my mind Of gods and mortals has at times revealed. Menon, Such education to a child to give Befits a monster rather than a man. Belsazar. She is a monster : like the storm her rage, And stubborn as her senseless rock her breast. Now you have learned whate'er there is to know, So wait no longer — (lie is going.) Menon. Stand ! you shall not go. The unhappy victim suffers innocent, Your jealous fear alone is her offence. This bear I not : myself shall set her free. Belsazar. Dost thou not fear the anger of the gods? Menon. A deed humane need never fear the gods. Belsazar. Wilt thou contemn a prophet's solemn warning ? Menon. Who warns against what's good, deserves contempt. 6 THE DAUGHTER ACT I. The gods themselves create the poisonous tree, Yet tiie discernment that they give to men Warns them to shun the fruit, yet from the rind Derive the essence of salubrious balm. Belsazar. Pride is the evil daemon of mankind. Menon. I will have no more words : give up the key, Belsazar. That I will not. Menon. Then I make use of force. Belsazar. O what a future. Sun, wilt thou behold ! (He runs off to the right.) Menon. Run ! stop him ! snatch the key from out his hands \ Lab exit. It is too late : he plunged into the lake. ! in the desperate frenzy of this priest 1 see the danger that impends on thee. Semi ram is. Break open the jaws of this terrible rock, And force the devour er to give up his prey ! Menon. Break the door open, for I will behold her. Even tho' the wondrous sight should strike me blind. (The door of the cave is burst open,) Xow, monster ! come from out thy dungeon's grave ! SCENE III. Semiramis comes out of the cave. She wears a frock of roeshin, a tiger skin coven her upper part; her head is uncovered, her hair flows down from her head. She runs on to the front of the stage with- out noticing the persons present. The above, without Belsazar. Semiramis. Welcome life ! welcome light ! Welcome heaven and earth! SC. III. OF THE AIR. How dazzling pours upon my sight This day of opening birth ! Now shinest thou, Sun, in thy highest sphere, Thou eye of heaven's blue height ! Now, Air, is thy breath refreshing and clear, Now is it a draught of delight : No rock shall be near me to-night to confine, T am at last free, and Existence is mine ! Menon (eying her in admiration). O wonderwork of heaven's creative might ! Now see I well thou can'st a world o'erthrow, If daemons hide in such a form of light, And art is vain 'gainst that celestial foe. Semiramis. Why have I then at this desert inveighed, That seems to me now so divine? The trees and the meadow, the sunshine and shade In varied enchantment combine : Like diamonds sparkle the rocks of the cave, In arches magnificent thrown : Above it a grove of palm-trees wave, And flowers spring up out of the stone; And fragrant breezes are breathing here, And the tones of the distant choir, Melodiously borne upon my ear, Eiysian ideas inspire. Men on {approaching her). O lovely child ! how speak, thy thanks declaring, Thy rapturous tones and gestures of delight ! Come, fairer diamond in thy dross appearing, That sets thy splendour more divinely bright, Semiramis. my deliverer! whom my joy forgetting To thank neglected, blame not this delay ! Ne'er have I yet this earth and heaven been set in, Ne'er seen this world and light's ambrosial ray. 1 follow thee : 1 am like the wild bird, The sparkling stone in sandy fields interred : And as the finder owns both bird and stone, So is ; my chief, the child of air thy own. 8 THE DAUGHTER ACT I. Where'er thou wilt to lead her is she thine So far as earth,, so far as seas expand. Heed not the threatening of the voice divine ; The child of gods will gods themselves withstand. jIenon. Wilt thou O lovely, trust thee to my hands, So will I bring thee to my verdant lands That on Euphrates 7 flowering margin lie, And long have wish'd to meet their mistress' eye. Semiramis. Whatever thou wilt, so be it, noble chief ! (She reaches Men'OX her hand: — to the Hunters) But you from out your golden serpents there Call up the inspiring notes, whose voice first broke My sleep of living death, from which awoke I long with ardour now life's joys to share. Yes let me hear again those sounds extatic I They are to me the enchanted horse that bear> The Sorcerer on his dreadful tour erratic To heaven's high thrones beyond the golden spheres 1 . (The hunters' music begins again. ) Come ! come ! on this impetuous rushing sea, I feel myself upborne and rapt away. (All go off, the music continuing during the time.) SCEXE IV. A Hall in the Palace of Nineveh. (Four Attendants bring an Ottoman.) Enter Ninus and Alilat : after them Tiridates Attendants follow, but retire again as soon as XiN-r-r and Alilat are seated. Nrxus. Now Tiridates, let us hear this news Which has in such a ferment set your blood As almost stopt the passage of your voice. TlRT DATES. Estorbat, the Bactrian king, collects SC. V. OF THE AIR. A numerous host, and all that man can want For preparation of offensive war Is summoned to the service of the king. NlNUS. Perhaps some danger threats him from the North. Whence wandering hordes oft rove in quest of prey. TlRI DATES. No, mighty sovereign, he himself avows Against thy empire is this force designed. Nixus. And will he break the treaty which together Scarce twto years since, so solemnly we signed And swore to in the sacred name of Bel? Altlat. No fear of gods th' ambitious ever binds. TlRI DATES. Already have his troops in hostile guise O'erpast the frontiers of Assyria's land. NlNUS (violently starting from his sent J. They have already ? Now what further use Is there in words ? 'Tis force must combat force. Send straight despatches to the governors In every province. Tell them they must soon, With all their troops in order well arrayed, Assembled meet in Assur's spacious plain. But first of all send Menon here to me, That I may gird him with the golden sword That marks his office as the army's chief: It is a powerful lightning in his hand. Be these commands without delay obeyed. T[RI DATES. What thou commandst, thy servant will perform. (He goes.) SCENE V. Ninus. Altlat. NlNUS. Now, dearest sister, must you once again Prepare with me to go a lon^* campaign, Or else remain in Nineveh ihne. b 3 10 THE DAUGHTER ACT I. Alilat. My royal brother, I will go with you : For fear is always less, when we ourselves Partake the risk with him for whom we fear : And soon, I firmly hope, will this new war With added splendour grace th' imperial throne^ With added laurels crown my brother's head. Ntnus. I hope it too, but not so confidently: Because I cannot rate myself so high As does my sister's love. Alilat. Has not as yet Been fortune always constant to your cause ? Nixus. Yes, but that is itself the very cause Why I the rather now should fear reverse. Alilat. Have you not ample surety of success Even without counting wimt you are yourself? The favour of the gods whom this thy foe By oath profaned has made his enemy : An army ever conqueror: and a chief That in the shock of tight stands like a Pharos 'Mid the wide roar of storm- collected waves, Itself unmoved, beneath whose guiding light The sea-whirl' d bark regains its destined home, Nix us. Half might I envy Men on such a praise: But that I do not, for [ freely own I owed to him the half of all my conquests: And while a half might count for none at all, I thanked him so as if it were a whole. 1 only hope his duty has kept pace With my munificence, since that has raised him To the first place in all Assyria's land. Alilat. You have indeed so much already given, That for the future merits of the hero Tue king's munificence has cause to fear. When you shall owe him one more victory yet. BC. V. OF THE AIR. 11 When with the aid of his destructive sword, You tread the pride of Bactra in the dust : I know not how you shall reward him then I XlXCS. When all the bounty that a king can give Grows poor before the merits of a subject. In that new pride he finds a fit reward. Alilat. I yet could find for him, my kingly brother, One other prize beside. Xixus, Then shew it me ! Alilat (gives him her hand in silence ). Xixcs. May 1 interpret this by my conjecture? Alilat. Yqu cannot misconceive it. Xixus. Has then Men on Found favour in my royal sister's eyes? Alilat. I own it willingly, my royal sire, For JNIenon is so rich in every virtue, And graced with such a list of shining deeds, That love is not afraid to speak outright. Xixus. That were indeed a prize with which even he Though he had conquered for me the whole earth, Might think himself not sparingly rewarded. If ever one who has not his first sleep Slept on imperial purple, can deserve A monarch's daughter, then does Menon that. By heroism, by adamantine truth, And by a life that is in glorious deeds As brilliant as the floor of heaven with stars. Does he it also by a loving heart ? Alilat The distant modes of state, the awful pomp, Which from my king derived encircles me, Is a partition -wall through which no eye Can pierce the thoughts within another's heart. 12 THE DAUGHTER ACT I. But yet the reverence which he always paid me Came from his heart so 5 that I must believe Were he more free, it soon would grow to love. Nikm lie soon will be within your view again ; Try therefore now, dear sister, try his heart ! Give him to see his chance of such a fortune, Which he I hope has never been so bold As once to dream of asking for himself. Let not your heart deceive you ! prove him well ! He will not dare to ask my sister's hand, H e can obtain it only as a gift From my munificence; if he that gift When once it has been offered, should refuse, Then must I lose the worthiest of my servants. x\lilat. O no such word as that, my royal liege. NtNUS. When love and reverence in his heart you find In due degree together : when I thus My servant's merit kinglike can reward, And at the same time brotherlike fulfil My sister's wishes, I refuse no more : And lay together your united hands, When Bactra's king lies vanquished at my feet. file goes. J SCENE VI. Alilat alone. You have, great gods, already given me much, Have laid me in the lap of earthly fortune; Yet would you give me power those gifts to prize. 80 add to them yet one, one loving heart — His loving heart. — Ah, lonely as the beggar's cheerless hut, The prisoner's only echo-conscious cell, Seems now this glittering palace of the king, While one adorns it not, one loving hear His loving heart. — SO. VI. OF THE AIR. 13 If so much good to mortals, sovereign gods, You cannot grant at once ; take back again The cold magnificence that now surrounds me, And give me in its stead one loving heart, — His loving heart ! — Then plant my life amidst what wastes you will, Where that sun shines, it will be happy still ! (She follows the king.) SCENE VII. The Garden of Menons Palace on the Euphrates, Vine-branches and Flower-beds. Enter MfiNON and SeMiraMis. Semiramis is habited in the oriental costume, but a& lightly as possible. Her under-dress white, her over-dress sky-Wiie: the folds of her turban shew the colours of the rainbow, the cap is blue with golden stars. S EMIR amis. And if I were your wife then, as you call it, What must I do, and what will be my duties? Men.on. Love knows no duties : all it wishes is To find its image in another's breast : And when love thus meets love reciprocal, It so entwines their mutual hearts in one, That all the lover does, whate'er it be, Is the fulfilling of his loved one's wish, Semiramis. Shall I attend you to the battle field ? Menon. O who would plant the fairest rose of earth, That only in the sheltered valley blooms On heath-clad mountains, on the whirlwind's path ? No, when the trumpet's spirit-stirring voice Calls me into the glowing field of war, Here in these peaceful shades rest thou secure. And at the earliest voice of peace I come 14 THE DAUGHTER ACT I. With ardent love impatient, home to thee, Then wilt thou take the war-helm from my forehead, From my tired arm the shield, while the loose vest Of peace receives me in its shady folds. I twine my warlike laurels round thy head, Thou crownest me instead with rose and myrtle, And were that laurel paid for with a wound, 'Twould quickly heal when tended by thy hand. Se.MIR-AMIS. ^>Yell, when you make your visit to the court, On some great f est- day, shall I not go there ? Men on. No, dearest thing, you must not. Who would lay A costly jewel in the open mart. To meet the eye of watchful avarice ? I will not go myself, save when obliged By duty, to the court. The king's esteem, "Till now my highest good, repays me not One single hour ] take from love's delight. Semir-Aviis. Then save that hour by taking me there too. Is't not enough that every pain we feel, That hunger, thirst, tired nature, frost and heat ^Yeighs down the noble spirit to the worm ? Is't not enough that T must daily die, And many golden hours, wherein the stars Move bright and wakeful through the solemn heaven, Lie blind and idle in a nightly deatn ? Is't not enough that 1 have not got wings, That I must let the stream, the clouds, the birds.. Pass on their course, and cannot follow them ? Is't not enough? must duty bind me too, Invented thraldom ? have I then but left One prison there to find another here ? For whether verdant field or dungeon dark Keeps me from life, 'tis one alike to me. Men on. But there 'twas force that kept thee, here 'tis love. ►Semiramis. O, if love shews itself in being a jailor, Then will I never let it near my heart. SC. VII. OF THE AIR. 15 Menon. O fairest child of heaven, and fairer far Then all Earth's daughters, if officious love Obstructs one wish of thine, be well assured That wish indulged were hurtful. Sure it were Far more delightful to fulfil thy wish, And have the rapture of being thank 'd by thee. But see, thou know'st not life, thou canst not fear The dangers from the cliffs, the hidden rocks, Tides, sands, and whirlpools, which the mariner Upon this sea, which ever foams, surround. We are fore-warn' d by that prophetic voice, In whose despite I dared to set thee free, And whose fulfilment I must yet prevent, Would I avoid destruction self-incurred, Would'st thou thyself not rush upon thy ruin. This well remembering, bridle thy desire, And, owing me thy freedom, in return Fulfil the word with which thou in the wild My ear enraptured'st, that thou wert mine. Semi ram is. And that I am: I am within your power; What you command, your subject must obey; But forge my chains myself— that is too much ! Men cm. Thou'rt angry with me, dearest; never had 1 So soon betray' d th' anxiety of love, Were not the hour of parting now at hand. The king demands me, against Bactra's chief That threatens him with war, to lead his army : O what I oft have praised as heaven's best gift, The power to climb the envied height of Fame, Is now my punishment : it calls me hence From out my paradise, away from thee. Semi ram is. O take me with you to the field that rings Beneath the horses' hoofs : where thousand spears Gleam in the sunbeams, and the bows resound ! take me there ! — a dawn breaks on my soul; 1 feel, I know it now, my home is in The throng of battle, and the flames of war. IS THK DAUGHTER ACT I. Men ox. thou celestial ! what a home were that For such a tender thing as the young maid ! Semi ram is. 1 am no maid : my mother does not walk This lower earth, nor sleeps inurn'd beneath I am no tender being, for I have Already with the bloody tiger fought Because I wished his spotted skin to wear. O take me there ! give me a fiery horse That breathes out flames ! I'll fly across the field, Come like a whirlwind down upon the foe, Break through the brazen bulwark of his ranks, And cut a passage to his very heart. Thee hits no spear, no dart, my eye bewares, Within my shield they find a silent death, And were the shield pierced through, within my breast. Menon. That would'st thou dearest ? O that word from thee Is recreating as the morning beam ! — It cannot be ! Saw I my highest good So near to danger, fear would seize my heart, My senses fail me, dimness take my eye, So that the turning point of victory Which heaven propitious sent, 1 could not see, And should inglorious either flee or fall. Semikamis. O take me there ! I must the chief survey In his own realm of conquest and command : Where thousand troops his single word obey, And fates of sovereigns lie within his hand. There see him Death's wide-whirling sickle swing, And fly the wide-strown field of harvest through. Cut to the centre of the hostile ring, And to the ground his glittering banner bring, Ere I confess, That is a hero true ! So hope no more by words my will to bend : The word is dead, the deed alone is life. Mexox. O if thou — never ! — foolish is the strife— Leave off! leave ofTi for ruin is the end. SC. VII. OF THE AIR. 17 Semiramis. Do you leave off your useless words to spend. When you have stormed the haughty Baetrian's tent, And dragged him captive to your sovereign's throne, Then will I gladly of my free consent Proclaim thee, farne-crown'dliero, for my own. Men on. Enough ! enough ! T let you have your will. he whose heart and breast love does not fill, Let him blame me ! — but take it nqt amiss That you must wait a little time for this, And think of Menon, till the happier day His message comes to call you hence away. Semiramis. That will I, Menon, I can you assure, 1 will meanwhile myself to arms inure. I will practise myself my weapons to wield, The spirited, foaming courser to guide, To cut with the sword, to guard with the shield, And any thing else of the sort beside. I will take no pleasure in easy life, Will sleep out under the open air, Till I hear the joyful news arrive, That bids me away to the field repair. Then forth from these narrow unvarying bounds, From these level-roli'd walks and laid-out grounds, From these gaudy flowers monotonous sight, Forth into the wide, the tumultuous fight! (Both go J END OF THE FIRST ACT, 18 THE DAUGHTER ACT II. ACT II. SCEXE I. The Country about Bactra. Enter on the left, Semi kam is dressed and armed like a man : Lab ex it and two other Attendants . Labexit (pointing to the right). There seest thou Bactra's spacious glittering town, Three times encircled with that zone of brick Which from the virgin none has yet unbound. Semi ram is. What none has yet accomplished, that will [. Now proudly from their heights those towers look down, But soon shall they submissive at my feet Bow in the dust. Lab ex it. Already now one month Has all Assyria's force besieged these walls, Since that one fight, where Menon Bactra's king And Bactra's army set in such affright, That they for refuge flying sought the town. Semiramis. What ! one whole month ? Why do they not at once Hurl down on those proud battlements that rock That rears its towering height above them all? La BEX IT. That is for giants, not for men. to do. {Pointing again to the right, but more to the front.) See yonder all Assyria's force arrayed ! ( Clashing of arms and martial music is heard in the distance.) Semiramis. Hark ! clang of arms ! The note of war's alarms : SC I. OF THE AIR. W O I can tell it at once tho' ne'er Till now lias the sound been brought to my ear, The voice of the wizard who bids me prepare The rapture of fight with him to share. O mother ! give wings to thy venturous Kind, O lend her the flight of the tempest-wind, (She is going off: Lab en it stops her. J Labexit. No ! by the gods I cannot suffer that ! What would my master say to me for this ? S emir amis (breaking loose J. Away ! — he may say or may do what he will — Life's flood bears me on, and I cannot stay still. Labexit (to the Attendants J. O stop her ! (The Attendants put themselves in her way.) Semiramis (drawing her sword). Back ! the first that lifts a hand That instant lives his last. ( The Attendants give way , she goes off to the right.) Labexit. Ye gods assist me ! (He hastens after her with the Attendants. Soon after, Nix us flies pursued by the Bactrians across the stage from the right to the left, and from the fore to the back-ground. Fighting is heard behind the scenes. Semiramis comes from the same side from which Nix us came.) Semiramis. Where hear I swords clashing ? I saw them there shine. ( She hastens in the same direction as Ninus. La- benit and the Attendants come from the same side as Semiramis came from.) Labexit. Fly ! bring th' unhappy, desperate venturer back ! ( They are going to run after her, but in the mean time appear) 20 THE DAUGHTER ACT IT. SCENE II. Ninus and Semiramis returned. (Labenit and the Attendants fall on their knee as soon as they see the King.) Labenit and Attendants. Hail our great King ! Semiramis (to Ninus). King ? — what ! are you the king ? Ninus. I am. Semiramis. Great gods, what splendour of renown Your bounty showers upon my first exploit ! , Ninus. And who art tliow ? thy dress and thy exploit Bespeak a youthful w T arrior : but thy face Cast in a fairer form than that of man, The lily's whiteness, and the rose's glow, Confess a tenderer race : yet no. nor that — Thou art too lovely for a thing of earth, Thou canst be only of immortal birth. Semiramis. Right hast thou guessed, my king : 'tis even so : I am Semiramis, the daughter of The queen of air, the nursling of the desert, Of Menon late the prize, and now the bride, Ninus. How! Menon's bride ! that art thou not, that shalst Thou never be ! Earth's proudest diadem Should deck thy head. — Why look'st thou so at me ? Semiramis. I never yet have seen a king before : And I confess, had you not told me so, I never should have taken you for one. SCENE III. Enter Tiridates and Attendants of the King. The above. Tiridates. See there the king ! Praise to th' immortal gods, JSC. III. OF TEE AIR. 21 Who to our fears Lave given a joyful end ! Long live my sovereign ! Attendants. Long our Sovereign live ! Ninus, The word is ready, tardy is the deed. My life was trusted to my servant's swords : Where were you when the foe had hemm'd me round, When my horse fell, and 1 was forced to fly ? Fall in the dust before this goddess-born, For 'tis to her your sovereign's life you owe. (Tiridates and the Attendants fall down before Semiramis.) TlRTDATES. Hail to our king's preserver ! Attendants. Hail to her ! Semiramis. Thou knowest how to reward. Yes, such reward A kingly spirit only can devise, That has experienced every earthly good. And knows to weigh the value of them all. Menon (behind the scene) . Is the king here ? Labenit. Yes, master, here he is. SCENE IV. The above. Enter Menon in haste, Menon. Illustrious Sire, the foe has been repulsed, Forced to retreat — [he sees Semiramis) Semiramis ! Semiramis. Yes, Menon, I answer at your calling. 22 THE DAUGHTER ACT II. XlXUS. For ray good, For. from the hands of three enclosing foes Has this celestial wonder set me free. Mexox {to himself). cunning foresight ! artful was the trick To dress and arm thee in a youth's disguise. Nix us. Now, Men on, why so silent? are you pain 'd At that which gladdens ail, to see your king Saved by your bride ? for so herself she names. Mexox. She names herself aright, my sovereign liege. Ninus. How think you now my bounty should reward her ? Mexox. Of that, my king, permit me to be silent : For common thoughts belong to common men, But kings do that which no one else would think. Nix us. 1 know, you have a silent turn of mind. (To Semiramis, who in the mean time, without minding what is before her, has kept looking to the right.) Semiramis ! Semiramis. What would my lord and king ? Ninus. What seeks thy eye so keenly in the distance ? Here 'tis of thy reward Semiramis [pointing to her breast). I bear it here ; Yet one request, great sovereign, grant me still. Ninus. You have it granted. Semiramis. Let me conquer Bactra. Nix us. You ! by what miracle ? Semiramis. See you that rock SC. IV. OF THE AIR, 23 That high o'er Bactra's towers erects its head ? NlNUS. Yes very plain. >S EMIR AMIS. If 1 ascend its height With fifty men, and thence with fire winged darts Shoot down devouring flame on those below, While you assault the ramparts, must not so The towering castle bow before your might ? NlNUS. Yes, if — But that high rock defies ascent. Semi ram is. O not to me ! my cradle was a rock, And the companion of my childhood was The native of the rock, the bounding goat. Give me but fifty chosen men, like me Trained up from infancy in halls of rock, You soon shall see us on its topmost height. NlNUS. That were a glorious enterprise indeed ! Menon. O hear her not ! she knows not what she says. Ninus (to Semiramis), It cannot be : the danger is too great. Semiramis. O shame, Assyria's king and all his host In courage by a woman overcome! Men on. Thy courage is the maniac's senseless dream. Semiramis. The king has given his leave, it is enough. Ninus. That's true : I have : and therefore be it so. (Ninus is going : Menon stops him.) Men on. If you esteem it right to grant destruction To those who ask for it, permit at least To me to share her desperate essay, That fate may bear us both at once away. c 21 THE DAUGHTER Semiramis. Permit it not, my king : T go alone : Be all the danger, all the fame ray own. (NlM US go 66 off; all fo Ho w . ) ACT II. SCEXE V. Th e Ten I of tli e King. Enter Ninus and Menon. Xixus. Now, Menon, answer this : whose is that land W here you this wonderous prize of beauty found ? Menon. Y\ hose was it ever, but my lord and king's ? Xixus. And does not also to its lord belong The treasure which it holds within its womb ? V\ hy hast thou then, unfaithful servant, thus Kept back thy master's property, and sought Therewith in darkness to enrich thyself? Menon. My sovereign, hear — XlNUS. Be silent, I do right When 1 despoil the robber of his prey, And punish his audacity. But that I will not do, because that thou art Menon : For thee, for thy once stedfast loyalty, I will not take advantage of my right, 1 will but take the prize, and pardon thee. Menon. Sir ! all things, life itself canst thou command From thy dependants, and refusal were A crime of treason, worthy certain death : But yet to ask me to renounce my love, A love that pierces deeper in my heart Than the warm glow of spring in tender plants, That is to ask me to renounce my soul, And to the £rods alone my soul belongs. SC. V. OF THE AIR. 25 NlNUS. ■ And my love ? — for do I not love her too ? Can any one come near her and not love ? Yes. without her the crown's effulgence fades, A seat of thorns hecomes the golden throne, The flowering wreath of laurel falls away, And Asia's teeming realm becomes a waste. As needs the diamond light to make it shine, So needs my life her sight to make it life, And so must thou Semiramis resign. Men on. More justly that would I demand of thee; For, Sir ! the highest virtue of a king, Who can do what he pleases, is forbearance : The hardest conquest that he can obtain, Is the controuling of his own desire : Forbearance now will shew thee in the light Of highest virtue and of highest praise. But [ could only yield from fear of thee, From avarice or ambition, which is loth To lose the fruitful favour of a king : So could my yielding bring me but disgrace. I have a right too to Semiramis : For from her prison's long and lonely night I brought her forth to liberty and day. NlNUS. I have a better right : for from the night Of death has she saved me, and there exists But one due recompense for a king's life, His heart and love. Now say is not thy king In duty held a debtor to thy bride? Menon. A king is never in his subject's debt. Think too upon the warning oracle ! NlNUS. Hast thou then thought on it ? and shall the king In courage yield to any of his servants ? Menon. Our case is different : if the lightning strikes The cot that stands alone, the flame expires c2. 26 THE DAUGHTER ACT II. For want of fuel soon : but if it falls On the high castle of some crowded town, The flames resistless spread from street to street, And riot on in licence uncontrouTd, And smother thousands in a fiery grave. Nixus. Will you give up ? Mexox. No, never! Nixus. I take her from you. Then by force Mexox. Then without disgrace I yield to Tyranny, and after- times Thy name detesting, will avenge my pain, When they shall hear how Ninus has repaid His bravest chief that gained him twenty fields, Conquered five kingdoms — Nixus. x\rt thou then so vain Of thy renown, and yet wouldst lose it all By this refusal now? — Resign her, Men on. Nor loveless will thy life hereafter be : A lot awaits thee whose magnificence And joys even kings shall envy when they see, Mexox. No 3 kin?, there is no joy but in her love, Without it earth is nought. Nixus, She loves you not, That shews she plainly. Mexox. Let herself decile! Yes, let Semiramis decide between us. Nixus. Ha ! inconsiderate presumptuous serf, Dar'st thou to make that offer to thy king ? Can any choice exist 'twixt me and thee ? (He considers/or a moment?) SC. VI. OF THE AIR. 27 Well ! let her choose ! but hear you this before : If she refuses you, your doom is Death, For naming such an offer to your king. Men ox. So be it, king ! if a heart beats within her, She will be mine, and if she slights me, then Is life henceforth a wornout faded garb, Past further use, no longer w T orth the wearing. SCENE VI. Tiridates comes. The above. TlRIDATES. Long live my king ! may ever thus the gods Bow all thy enemies before thy feet ! NlNUS. Thou bring'st us tidings ? Tiridates. Joyful tidings, king : The towering walls of Bactra scaled and won. NlNUS. Has then that wonder-daring warrior maid Fulfilled her word ? Tiridates. She has, my king. NlNUS. Say how ! Tiridates, With fifty warriors chosen from the host, Train'd on the heights of Taurus' stormy rocks, To hunt the goat, the warrior maid began Her heaven-assaulting project by a path, W r hich even the foe's keen eye had not perceived. Amazement seized on all who saw the deed, And many a cry of wonder and of fear Broke from the hardy breast, and many an eye, Before well steeled, sank on the ground at last, To shun the sight of her terrific fall. For like the ivy's tempest-beaten tendrils, 28 THE DAUGHTER ACT II. That grasp and fasten to the solid rock, So seemed she oft to cling without a hold. Yet, where the eye saw not a jutting crag, There found she still a place to plant her foot, And on the scanty shrub, the crippled child Of an -unfruitful mother, found a hold, Till w^e could but discern herself alone, Too far to see her clambering or her danger. Meantime had Arzidas, as she desired, Already with his troops approached the town. And as her standard floated in the wind, The trumpet pealM a summons to the storm. The Bactrians on the ramparts stood arrayed, A brazen wall against a wall of rock, And coolly waited, free from fear or care, Our sham assault premeditately faint. But on the rock's objected front above Appears Semiramis amidst her troop, And like destroying gods whose vengeful wrath Had sworn destruction on the fated town, Pour down a burning shower of arrows, wound With spiry serpents of asphaltic fire. The lightning strikes the palace, strikes the hut, A wind malignant blows the wasting flame, Till, like a flying squirrel, now it leaps From roof to roof along : — then panic fear Seized like a spectre on the Bactrian host, When they beheld the foe before their doors, The foe above their head, the flame around, And not an opening of escape from death. Then fear gave way to madness and despair : Called by the women's shrieks of terror down, Impelled already by their own dismay, They throw themselves by thousands from the wall, Which now with strength reserved, wild as the wave Bursts o'er th/ opposing rock, our gathered force By Arzidas led on, prepare to storm. The foe makes feeble stand : the rampart's height Is quickly scaled ; in one resistless flood The rushing stream of victors fills the streets, SC. VII. OF THE AIR. 29 And by this hour the city is our own. {Martial music is heard without.) Here, king, they come ! NlNUS. Draw up the entrance curtain. The central curtain is drawn up, through ichich appears the view of the Mountainous Country in, the distance. Outside of the Tent are seen SCENE VII. Semiramis still dressed as in the former scene; after her the King of Bactra and his three Sons in golden chains, Officers, and others. The above. Ninus ascends the Throne ; Semiramis comes into the Tent. Semiramis. Hail my great sovereign ! and the gods enlarge With every sun his empire and his fame ! (She calls the four PjHsoners in.) You golden-fettered princes, now fall down Before your Lord and conqueror in the dust. (The King of Bactra and his three Sons fall down before Ninus.) Ninus. Now, haughty Estorbat, see what reward Th' avenging gods for perjury bestow ! (He waves his hand, the Prisoners rise and go away. J Ninus (to the Attendants). Bring hither quick a laurel-wreath ! {to Se?niramis) Come near, Semiramis, thou favourite of the gods, Who always near thee stand and give thee aid. Semiramis. The gods, my king, preside indeed o'er all : Yet what I did was not the less my own. 30 THE DAUGHTER ACT IK Nixus. The gods alone could give thee to achieve. What I and all my chieftains, train d from youth To scenes of war and danger, could not do. Semi ram is. You could have done it, if the thought alone You could have dared. Nixus {Pitting a wreath of Laurel, which one of the Attei dants has brought him, on her head). Thou prize of heroes, crown The loveliest, most heroic of her race \ {to the Attendants^) Do you prepare our entry into Bactra. {to Semiramis) There will I set a prize before your view, Which, if it pleases in your eye,, will make The giver richer far than the receiver. Semiramis. King, would'st thon grant a favour, do it now. Xixus. Name what thou wilt ! thy wishes to fulfil Is no too trifling pleasure for a king. Semiramis. So let me on a golden palanquin, Borne as an empress by the vanquished chiefs,. Enter in triumph Bactra" s conquered town.. Nixus, Your wish is granted, (to MenonJ You conduct my train. (to Tiridates) You, Tiridates, do what she commands. ( He goes. ^Iesos and Tiridates follow, theformei goes off with a part of the Attendants, along with the King; Tiridates remains %oUl% the other Party and the Prisoners outside of the Tent. J Semiramis. Look down, celestial mother 1 See thy daughter in laurel crowned ! See her by Kings in Triumph borne, The gaze of thousand eyes around ! SC. VIII. OF THE AIR. 31 O command, celestial mother, All thy airs in chorus here, That they may waft the melodious name Of thy daughter from ear to ear ! Mother ! esteem not thy child as undutiful, When to ascend above thee she shall dare, When with the stars in resplendency beautiful Shining, she sails on the fields of the air. (She goes off: all follow.) SCENE VIII. A Hall in the Palace at Bactra. Enter Nintts and Alilat. The Attendants only shew themselves \ then at a sign from the King withdraw. Alilat. And this dread warning of th' eternal gods, Which any mortal, tenfold more a king, Should fill with anxious fear, wilt thou despise ? That wilt thou surely not, my royal brother, Thou wilt consider — NlNUS. I will not consider : For every faculty of mind dissolves Before her beauty, her heroic mind, Her spirit's high aspiring flight. To her, To her calls every voice within my breast, And peace I cannot have, but having her. Alilat. And canst thou from thy best, most faithful servant Ungenerously take by force his bride ? Ntnus. No, not by force : herself is to decide. Alilat. O brother, subject not thyself, the king, To the disgrace of a defeat : for think, If she does not prefer, she must reject thea. 32 THE DAUGHTER ACT II. Then, is she not his bride ? — and O ! how light When placed in competition with her love, Will all thy roight and thy magnificence Seem in her eyes. And if she does choose thee, Her faithless heart deserves to be debased Even to the meanest thing that hangs on life, And not to be exalted to a throne. Xixus. She is no being of ordinary earth, Nor in a mortal balance to be weighed ; Me will she choose, I know, and with his life Shall Menon pay for his audacity, That for a prize tit only for a king, He with his king has offered to contend. Alilat. Pay with his life ? O how has that enchantress The kingly virtue, magnanimity, So soon discarded from my brother's heart ? Oh no, my king— thou woulds't not take his life— NlNUS. Art thou the sister of a king and tindest Within thy breast yet breath to plead for one ^Yho has insulted thee in such a way ? Alilat. He has not insulted me : for is the heart The subject of the will I and is not he By this enchantress held as much as thou ? I suffer much already, and must long, Because 1 must in silence bear the pain, And can to no physician shew the wound. Thou, my dear brother, thou wilt surely not Increase my ill. O promise me at least, If thou, despising this prophetic voice, Wilt madly run thy head upon destruction — Promise me this, howe'er Semiramis May choose between you, thou wilt spare his life. Nixes. Shall insolence not meet its punishment ? Alilat. Thy sister asks this favour at thy hands, (She falls down before him.) SC. IX. OF THE AIR. 33 Upon her knees she asks it of her brother, A life that is to her so dear to spare. NlNUS. His life —well — be it so ! but only life. Alilat. Give me thy word, that I may feel assured. NlNUS. I give it thee. (Music is heard without.*) She comes in triumph here : Now, sister, view thyself this goddess-born, And cease to blame the passion of my love. SCENE IX. Semiramis enters on a golden Palanquin borne by the four Prisoners; after her, Menon, Arzidas, Tiridates, and others, Ninus ascends the Throne, . — Alilat, as soon as she $£plendour past with greater splendour crown, jjjj (She goes.) SC. VII. OF THE AIR. 95 SCENE VI. The Country on the tvestern shore of the Indus, Menon led by Nergal comes with Arbaces, Otanes, and Train from the left. Lightning in the distance. Menon, How many lives, Otanes, has it cost us To pay our passage ? Otanes. Not two hundred quite, Menon. A cheap-bought victory, yet a weighty one ! This fortunate beginning, and perhaps The name of Menon too, will to the queen The direst foes that threaten chieftains' schemes, The loss of heart and indecision bring. (An Officer comes from the right.) Officer (to Menon), The spies inform us, chieftain, that the fight's Begun already on the further shore ; But clouds tempestuous rest upon the field, And their obscurity conceals the fight. Menon. The gods themselves enlist upon our side. (to Arbaces and Otanes.) On gallant friends ! the bridges let us storm. {Arbaces, Otanes, and the Officer gooff to the rigJU.) SCENE VIL Alilat and Ninyas come with their Train from the left. Menon. Alilat. The gods preserve thee, Menon, through this day! (She embraces Menon.) 96 THE DAUGHTER ACT V. NlXYAS. The same, dear uncle, do I wish thee too. Mexox. Welcome here, Alilat, beloved wife ! Welcome my prince, amidst thy army here ! Yet no, that is deception of my tongue, For to my heart you are not welcome here. You should stay in the rear : amid the throng Where death, the unrelenting driver, leaves Even to the gentle not the power to spare, Thy sex,* thy youthf, no business have to be. NiNYAsi How, uncle, will you set me on the throne, And yet not have me learn the art of war? Mexox. Prince, learn to build ! 'Tis easy to destroy. Alilat. The long-used privilege to be thy guide I never can so easily resign; For in my hand a vacancy I feel That gives me pain, if in it lies not thine. Mexox. O be it thine then always me to lead : Who could more truly, lovingly than thou ? Alilat (embracing him). My ardent longing, with the wish once more As conqueror thee to see, has brought me here. had I saved up all my love before, To love thee higher, inlier now than e'er ! (She leads his hand to her face. J FeeVst thou the tears of heated feeling pour, Which from the heart's full sea of joy run o'er? Mexox. 1 feel them. Could I also see thy smile, Thy smile of joy : the sight of that would be The most delightful that an eye could see. * To Alilat. f To Ninyas. SC. VITI. OF THE AIR. 97 Alilat. No, no,— -thy thought presents it fair I know : Scarce can my heart indeed its joy control; But never have my looks been wont to show The mirror of a joy-elated soul. SCENE VIII.. TJhe above. Otanes comes from the right, and after saluting Ninyas and Alilat, turns to Menon. Otanes. I come your further orders to receive; For spies, arriving from the further shore, Inform me that the battle is decided. Alilat. Decided ! great Immortals ! Menon. How decided? Otanes. So that the queen has met a full defeat. Broke is the firm-set column of the line, The fight disorganized: no longer stand The squares in order parted from the squares, No more the foot divided from the horse, No more by one, their leader's, mind impelled To one same end, the gather'd squadrons move: No, sense-bewildered, frenzy-driven flies, Like to of frighted wasps the giddy swarm, The crowd along the field, and over arms, And blood and corses goes the headlong flight. Before, to right, to left, destroying wide, Breaks through the swarm the foe his bloody way ; And from amidst the fearful tumult tower Like rocky islands from the ocean-waves The forms gigantic of the elephants : Here do they tread their victims in the dust, 98 THE DAUGHTER ACT V. And hurl infuriate others in the air ; There fall on earth with showers of darts assailed, Like ruined towers, upon the men below, And as a horse, when rolling in the corn The halm destroys, beneath them crush the men. The right wing only still the fight maintains, For^jthere, they say, the queen herself presides. x\LILAT. She too will fall : foreboding tells my mind That her last hour of triumph now has come. O thanks, immortals, that ye give me yet The day to see, in which the proud one falls, The mischief-making sorceress that has brought Such countless woe on all I ever loved. SCENE IX. The above. An Officer comes from the right. Officer. Sir, to the bridge the flying squadrons throng, And threaten their own bulwarks to break through* Arbaces asks — Men ox. He shall draw back again Within our camp, to give the people room ; They will give up themselves. I come myself. (He goes off to the right. All follow.) SCENE X. Twilight. Lightning in the distance. A tremen- dous crash is heard. Two Soldiers come in the greatest haste from the right. First Soldier. What was. that crash ? SC. XL OF THE AIR. 99 Second Soldier. It sounded as a house In ruins fell. First Soldier. Why, where are houses here ! (He comes near the shore, and points to the right.) O heavens ! Look there, the bridge is broken down. Ha ! what a supper for the stream to night ! See how they fall and scramble, horses, men, And camels all together ! — Now His o'er ! The whole engulphed rests underneath the wave As peacefully as in an earthly grave. Semiramis, and immediately after Arzidas, appear on the further shore. Semtramis points terrified to the right, as if at the fallen down bridge. Indians come on the same shore from the right. Semiramis and Arzidas vanish to the left. The latter disap- pears entirely. Semiramis springs into the stream, and swims it through, in spite of the arrows of the Indians, to the left, so that she disappears from the sight. First Soldier. That was the queen. — - — See there she comes again — Pursuers press on her — — O all ye gods ! She plunges in the flood — fights with the stream — High-spirited, unvanquishable queen ! O shame and treason that we ever left her ! Now she has reached the shore comes this way here — — Away ! I dread the lightning of her eye. (They go off to the left.) SCENE XI. Soon after appears Semiramis from the left, without her turban, with her hair loose, the Crown in her hand. Later, the two Soldiers. Semiramis. The Crown has yet been rescued ! Baffled Indus, Think'st thou, to be the eternal stream of Time ; 100 THE DAUGHTER ACT V. That bears down crowns and empires? Be content That thou hast drunk the life-blood of a queen. (She sets the crown again upon her head. The two Soldiers come back, but run away as soon as they see the Queen.) SCENE XII. Arzidas, spent, supporting himself on his Sword comes from the left. Semiramis. How goes it, my true x\rzidas ? Arzidas, To th' end : My latest strength the stream has reft away: O queen, what a disastrous day is this ! Brave swirnm'st thou bleeding through the Indus' waves-. Yet no free city here appears in sight To grant thee safety in its friendly walls-: Here see I foes, (pointing to the right) Foes see I also there. Semi ram is. Xot safety do I seek : I wish alone To die as queen upon my own domain. Arzidas. Hadst thou but conquered, I would gladly die ! Semiramis. That hope is past. — Saw'st thou the gloomy warrior, The triple-headed, on the car of fire ? That was the Indus' god, that for tbem fought. Me too indeed a goddess-mother bore, But mightier are these gods of Ind than I, And they, not men, have brought me to this end. Arzidas (after a short pause). My royal mistress, let me kiss thy hand, To take farewell. I feel, my eye grows dark ; — SC. XIV. OF THE AIR. 101 That rock the pang of parting life shall hide, Because I will not by my dying scene Distress the eye of my beloved queen. (He kisses her hand which she reaches him, and with- draws himself to the left.) SCENE XIII. S emir am is alone. So with the latest of her subjects' lives Concludes the empire of the world's great queen ; But so will not my memory cease to be : ; From heaven's remotest orbit shall I see How deeply filled with wonder, yes, with fear, What I have done the later world shall hear; To each far star, on heaven's remotest ends, The hymn of wonder to my ear ascends. (She sets herself spent against a natural bank of rock r so that the rock itself serves her for a rest lo lean* against.) It is no throne — and what is that to me — When this dark lonely passage — to the throne Of him, the king of light — my bridegroom, leads? There does it lead 1 shall behold him there — — « Then — light myself —his light unparted share ! ( She sinks back senseless on the Bank. Soon there* upon appear coming from the right) SCENE XIV. Mbnon, Altlat, Nintas, and Train led by the two Soldiers. First Soldier. Here was the queen just now. Ninyas. There is she still. 102 THE DAUGHTER ACT V. I will have no one do her any harm. (He has hastened to Semieamis, and tries to support her. To the others) Keep back ! — She bleeds ! — Ah me, she scarcely breathes ! Mexon. fairest star ! must thou so young expire ? Alilat. Has she from thee this glowing praise deserv'd ? Yet to the fall'n F will not envy that. Menon. Thou art true love, eternal constancy, The stedfast earth that bears the weight of life ; She was the star-bright heaven spread over life. Thou art the much-beloved of my heart, The high-celestial, wonderful was she. (The evening-twilight is complete.) Semiramis (revives, looks motionless at those around her, feels after her crown, and lets her look rove upward, rais- ing herself up.) 1 see my mother in the robe of night, (She takes a step towards the middle, Ninyas with her to support her.) Her hair enw^reath'd with stars of glimmering light. (as if she was listening to something; then hastily going two steps forward) She calls me through the breeze of evening mild, Come to thy sleep, my child ! (She sinks hack in Menon's arms and dies. Alilat and Ninyas support her.) THE END. NOT E S. Page 5, line 9. — To understand this derivation, it is necessary to know- that the word Semiramis in the Syrian language signifies a mountain-dove, as we are informed by Hesychius, who is more explicit in this etymology than Diodorus, from whom this history is taken. P. 12, 1. 32, 33. — This passage is a singular instance of the effect of alliteration. The single want of the turn on em and sein, destroys in the translation all the grace of this clause in the original. The beauty of the sentiments however in this whole scene is such as cannot be lost in any translation. P. 19, 1. 5 Kind for child is used by Shakspeare. It is pro- nounced short, like Ind. P. 21, last line. — / answer at your calling.] Apparently alluding to the last words of Menon in Act I. P. 23, 2d line from the end.— All that follows to the end of this act is closely copied from Calderon (pp. 161 — 165 and 177—195 of Gries's translation) : the tenth scene almost verbatim. P. 39, 1. 9, sqq. — The three following scenes are perhaps the only ones in the whole tragedy where the imitation is decidedly inferior to the original. The corresponding scenes in Calderon (p. 186 — 191) are among the most beautiful and pathetic in the whole play. The soliloquy of Menon in the first of them is a parallel to Milton's in the third book of Paradise Lost ; and the appearance of Chato in the next is much more striking than that of Alilat. — Chato is one of those absurd characters, half fool and half knave, which the old poets seemed to have considered as necessary to their plays as the kings of old time to their courts, but which in modern times have been discarded from both, having been found to be equally in both instances more troublesome than amusing : of whom every reader will be disposed to say as he does of himself in a different sense : i; Immer komm' ich doch unzeitig." I always come inopportune. Yet in the present instance his presence produces a much greater effect than a more dignified character could do. The sight of Menon reduced to converse with this foolish and worthless character, his readiness to reward him for so trifling a service as he does him, and the heartless and mercenary return he meets with, suggest to NOTES. every reader, and probably did to Raupach himself, all the reflec- tions that Alilat makes : and which are as much more impressive when made by the reader than for him, as actions always are than words. This inferiority however is no fault of the author, as the introduction of such a character as Chato would have been quite unsuitable in modern tragedy, and besides the part of Alilat in this scene is necessary to all the future scenes in which she appears. The sublime scene of thunder, lightning, flood and fire, with which the drama concludes, as well as much of the dialogue, have been omitted : the former for obvious reasons : the second, I suppose, as being unnecessary. P. 47. 1. 7. — See Act IV, near the end. But the highest value of this passage is the moral lesson it inculcates : for it is scarcely possible to conceive any accumulation of circumstances more calcu- lated to inspire the most unconquerable resentment than the situa- tion of Menon; and yet I believe no one can read this passage without feeling that were he in the same situation he would do just the same. Act V. Scene II — I believe that the reappearance of Menon as general will have nearly the same effect on every reader as Alilat anticipates from the people in the conclusion of the fourth act. A not very dissimilar instance in the modern history of those countries is given in Morier's Persia, though I cannot recollect the place. P. 88, last verse — There is a beauty in this- which will probably not be noticed at once by every one, and which was not perhaps in- tended by the Author. Menon evidently intends that the requital he speaks of should be understood as relative to Semiramis' depriv- ing Ninyas of his throne ; but we may easily suppose that there was at the same time a recollection of her rejection of himself, and a satisfaction at her reverse, P. 97, 1. This verse being unintelligible to me in the original, the translation is necessarily somewhat so too. The same is the case with several other passages ill the play. Printed by \V. GLINDOK, 51, Rupert Street, Hayrnarket, London. s* ! ir LB/