The scene represents a large peristyle, at the bottom of which is the palace of Sémiramis. Gardens with fine hanging terraces, raised above the palace: on the right hand the temple of the magi, and on the left a mausoleum adorned with obelisks.
SCENE I.
ARSACES, MITRANES.
[Two slaves at a distance carrying a coffer.
ARSACES.
Once more, Mitranes, thou beholdest thy friend,
Who, in obedience to the royal mandate
In secret sent, revisits Babylon,
The seat of empire; how Sémiramis
Imprints the image of her own great soul
On every object! these stupendous piles,
These deep enclosures, where Euphrates pours
His tributary waves; the temple’s pride,
The hanging gardens, and the splendid tomb
Of Ninus, wondrous monuments of art!
And only less to be admired than she
Who raised them! here, in all her splendid pomp,
More honored than the monarchs of the East,
Arsaces shall behold this glorious queen.
MITRANES.
O my Arsaces, credit not the voice
Of Fame, she is deceitful oft, and vain;
Perhaps hereafter thou mayest weep with me,
And admiration on a nearer view
May turn to pity.
ARSACES.
Wherefore?
MITRANES.
Sunk in grief,
Sémiramis hath spread o’er every heart
The sorrows which she feels; sometimes she raves,
Filling the air with her distressful cries,
As if some vengeful God pursued her; sits
Silent and sad within these lonely vaults,
Sacred to night, to sorrow, and to death,
Which mortals dare not enter; where the ashes
Of Ninus, our late honored sovereign, lie:
There will she oft fall on her knees and weep:
With slow and fearful steps she glides along,
And beats her breast besprinkled with her tears:
Oft as she treads her solitary round,
Will she repeat the names of son and husband,
And call on heaven, which in its anger seems
To thwart her in the zenith of her glory.
ARSACES.
Whence can her sorrow flow?
MITRANES.
The effect is dreadful:
The cause unknown.
ARSACES.
How long hath she been thus
Oppressed, Mitranes?
MITRANES.
From the very time
When first her orders came to bring Arsaces.
ARSACES.
Me, saidst thou?
MITRANES.
You, my lord: when Babylon
Rejoicing met to celebrate thy conquests,
And saw the banners thy victorious arm
Had wrested from our vanquished foes; when first
Euphrates brought to our delighted shore
The lovely Azema, from Belus sprung,
Whom thou hadst saved from Scythian ravishers,
Even in that hour of triumph and success,
Even in the bosom of prosperity,
The heart of majesty was pierced with grief,
And the throne lost its lustre.
ARSACES.
Azema
Was not to blame; she could not be the cause
Of sorrow or distress; one look from her
Would soothe the wrath of gods: but say, my friend,
Sémiramis is still a sovereign here,
Her heart is not forever sunk in grief?
MITRANES.
No: when her noble mind shakes off the burden,
Resumes its strength, and shines in native lustre,
Then we behold in her exalted soul
Powers that excel whatever flattery’s self
Hath e’er bestowed on kings; but when she sinks
Beneath this dreadful malady, loose flow
The reins of empire, dropping from her hand;
Then the proud satrap, fiery Assur, guides
The helm and makes the nations groan beneath him:
The fatal secret never yet hath reached
The walls of Babylon: abroad we still
Are envied, but, alas! we mourn at home.
ARSACES.
What lessons of instruction to weak mortals,
When happiness is mingled thus with woe!
I, too, am wretched, thus deprived of him
Whose piercing wisdom best could give me council,
And lead me through the mazes of a court.
O I have cause to weep: without a father,
Left as I am to all the dangerous passions
Of heedless youth, without a friendly guide,
What rocks encompass and what shoals affright me!
MITRANES.
I weep with thee the loss of him we loved,
The good old man; Phradates was my friend;
Ninus esteemed and gave to him the care
Of Ninias, his dear son, our country’s hope:
But O! one fatal day destroyed them both,
Father and son: to voluntary exile
Devoted, long he lived: his banishment
Was fortunate to thee, and made thee great:
Close by his side, in honor’s glorious field,
Arsaces fought, and conquered for his country:
Now, ranked with princes, thy exalted virtue
Claims its reward by merit all thy own.
ARSACES.
I know not what may be my portion here:
Perhaps, distinguished on Arbazan’s plains
With fair success, my name is not unknown:
On Oxus’ banks to great Sémiramis,
When vanquished nations paid the homage due,
From her triumphant cars she dropped a ray
Of her own glory on Arsaces’ head:
But oft the soldier, honored in the field,
In courts neglected lies, and is forgotten.
My father told me in his dying hour
The fortune of Arsaces here depended
Upon the common cause; then gave to me
These precious relics, which from every eye
He had preserved: I must deliver them
To the high priest, for he alone can judge,
And know their value: I must talk with him
In secret, touching my own fate, for he
Can best conduct me to Sémiramis.
MITRANES.
He seldom sees the queen: in solitude
Obscure he lives: his holy ministry
Engrosses all his care; without ambition,
Fearless, and void of art: is always seen
Within the temple, never at the court:
Never affects the pride of rank and title,
Nor his tiara near the diadem
Immodest wears: the less he seeks for greatness,
The more is he admired, the more revered:
I have access to every avenue
Of his retirement in this sacred place,
And can this moment talk to him in secret;
Ere day’s too far advanced I’ll bring him hither.
SCENE II.
ARSACES.
[Alone.
Immortal gods! for what am I reserved?
Make known your will: why did my dying father
Thus send me to the sanctuary, me
A soldier, bred amidst the din of arms?
A lover, too? How can Arsaces serve
The gods of the Chaldæans? — Ha! what voice
From yonder tomb in plaintive accents strikes
My frighted ear, and makes my hair to stand
On end with horror! Near this place I’ve heard
The spirit of Ninus dwells — again it shrieks —
It shocks my soul — Ye dark and dreary caves,
And thou, the shade of my illustrious master,
Thou voice of heaven, what wouldst thou with Arsaces?
SCENE III.
ARSACES, OROES, the high priest, the magi attending him, MITRANES.
MITRANES.
[Speaking to Oroes.
He’s here, my lord, and waits to give you up
Those precious relics.
ARSACES.
Most revered father,
Permit a soldier to approach your presence,
Pleased to fulfil a father’s last command,
One whom you deigned to love; thus at your feet,
Obedient to his will, I here resign them.
OROES.
Welcome! thou brave and noble youth! that God
Who governs all, and not a father’s will,
Guided thee here: Phradates was my friend;
Dear is his memory to me; thou shalt know
Perhaps hereafter how I love his son:
Where are the gifts he sent me?
ARSACES.
[The slaves deliver the coffer to two of the magi, who place it on an altar.
Here, my lord.
OROES.
[Opening the coffer, bowing reverentially to it, and seeming greatly affected.
Ye sacred relics! do these eyes at length
Behold you! O, I weep for joy to press
These monuments of woe, whilst tears recall
My solemn oath: Mitranes, let no ear
Profane disturb our holy mystery:
We would be private.
[The magi retire.
Mark this seal, Arsaces:
‘Tis that which to the laws of Ninus gave
Their public force, and kept the world in awe:
The letter, too, which with his dying hand
He wrote: Arsaces, view the wreath that crowned
His royal brows, and his victorious sword:
The vanquished Medes and Persians felt its power:
It comes at last to vindicate its master,
And to revenge him; useless instrument
Against base treachery, and destructive poison,
Whose mortal —
ARSACES.
Heaven! what sayest thou?
OROES.
The dread secret
Hath long been hid in darkness from the eyes
Of men within the sepulchre; the shade
Of Ninus, and offended heaven, long time
Have raised their voice in vain, and called for vengeance.
ARSACES.
It must be as thou sayest: for know, but now,
Even on this spot, I heard most dreadful groans.
OROES.
It was the voice of Ninus.
ARSACES.
Twice the noise
Affrighted me.
OROES.
‘Twas he: he calls for vengeance.
ARSACES.
He has a right to ask it: but on whom?
OROES.
On the vile murderers, whose detested hands
Had of the best of sovereigns robbed mankind;
No tracks are left behind of the base treason,
But all with him lies buried in the tomb:
With ease might they deceive the sons of men,
But not the all-seeing eye of watchful heaven,
Which pierces the deep night of human falsehood.
ARSACES.
O would to heaven this feeble hand had power
To punish crimes like these! I know not wherefore,
But when I cast my eyes towards you tomb,
New horrors rise: O might I not consult
That venerable shade, the inhabitant
Of those dark mansions?
OROES.
No; it is forbidden:
An oracle severe long since denounced
The wrath of heaven against whoe’er should press
Into this vale of tears, inhabited
By death and the avenging gods: await
With me, Arsaces, for the day of justice:
Soon will it come, and all shall be accomplished:
I can no more: sequestered from the world,
I pray in secret to offended heaven,
Which, as it wills, commissions me to speak,
Or close my lips in silence: I have said
All that I dare, and all I ought: be careful
Lest in these walls a word, or look, or gesture,
Betray the secret which the god by me
Hath trusted with thee; for on that depends
His glory, Asia’s welfare, and thy life.
Approach, ye magi, hide these sacred relics
Beneath the altar.
[The great gate of the palace opens, Assur appears at a distance, surrounded by attendants and guards on every side.
Ha! the palace opens:
The courtiers crowding to the queen: behold
The haughty Assur with his servile throng
Of flatterers round him! O almighty power!
On whom dost thou bestow thy bounties here?
O monster!
ARSACES.
Ha! what meanest thou?
OROES.
Fare thee well:
When night shall cast her sable mantle o’er
These guilty walls, I’ll have more converse with thee,
Before the gods: revere them, my Arsaces,
For know, brave youth, their eyes are fixed on thee.
SCENE IV.
ARSACES, MITRANES, in the front of the stage, ASSUR, CEDAR, with attendants, on one side.
ARSACES.
His words are dreadful; they affright my soul:
What horrid crimes! and what a court is here!
How little known! my royal master poisoned,
And Assur, but too well I see, suspected!
MITRANES.
Assur is sprung of royal race, and claims
The deference due to his authority:
He is the favorite of Sémiramis,
And thou, without a blush, mayest pay him homage.
ARSACES.
Homage to him!
ASSUR.
[To Cedar.
Ha! do my eyes deceive me,
Or is Arsaces here without my order?
Amazing insolence!
ARSACES.
What haughtiness!
ASSUR.
[Advancing.
Come hither, youth: what new engagements here
Have brought you from the camp?
ARSACES.
My duty, sir,
And the queen’s orders.
ASSUR.
Did the queen send for you?
ARSACES.
She did.
ASSUR.
But, know you not, with her commands
You should have asked for mine?
ARSACES.
I know not that,
And should have thought the honor of her crown
Debased by such a mean submission to thee:
My lord, you must forgive a soldier’s roughness,
We are bad courtiers: bred up in the plains
Of Arbazan and Scythia, I have served
Your court, but am not much acquainted with it.
ASSUR.
Age, time, and place, perhaps, may teach you, sir.
What would you with the queen? for know, young man,
Assur alone can lead you to her presence.
ARSACES.
I come to ask my valor’s best reward,
The honor still to serve her.
ASSUR.
Thou wantest more,
Presumptuous boy! I know thy bold pretences
To Azema, but that thou wouldst conceal.
ARSACES.
Yes: I adore that lovely maid: her heart
Would I prefer to empire: my respect,
My tenderest love —
ASSUR.
No more: thou knowest not whom
Thou art insulting thus: what! join the race
Of a Sarmatian to the demigods
Of Tigris and Euphrates! mark me well:
In pity to thy youth I would advise thee
Ne’er, on thy peril, to Sémiramis
Impart thy insolent request; for know,
Rash boy, if thou shouldst dare to violate
The rights of Assur, ‘twill not pass unpunished.
ARSACES.
I’ll go this instant: thou hast given me courage:
Thus threatenings always terrify Arsaces:
Thou hast no right, whate’er thy power may be,
To affront a soldier who has served his queen,
The state, and thee: perhaps my warmth offends;
But thou art rasher than myself, to think
That I would bend beneath thy servile yoke,
Or tremble at thy power.
ASSUR.
Perhaps thou mayest;
I’ll teach thee what a subject may expect
For insolence like this.
ARSACES.
We both may learn it.
SCENE V.
SÉMIRAMIS, at the farther end of the stage, leaning on her women.
OTANES, ASSUR, ARSACES, MITRANES, in the front.
OTANES.
[Advancing.
My lord, the queen at present would be private:
You must retire, and give her sorrows way:
Withdraw, ye gods, the hand of vengeance from her!
ARSACES.
How I lament her fate!
ASSUR.
[To one of his attendants.
Let us begone,
And study how we best may turn her griefs
To our advantage.
[Sémiramis comes forward, and is joined by Otanes.
OTANES.
My royal mistress, be yourself again,
And wake once more to joy and happiness.
SÉMIRAMIS.
O death! when wilt thou come with friendly shade
To close these eyes that hate the light of day?
Be shut, ye caves; horrible phantom, hence!
Strike if thou wilt, but threaten me no more.
Otanes, is Arsaces come?
OTANES.
Ere morn
Rose on the temple, madam, he was there.
SÉMIRAMIS.
That dreadful voice, from heaven or hell I know not,
Which in the dead of night so shakes my soul,
Told me, my sorrows, when Arsaces came,
Would soon be o’er.
OTANES.
Rely then on the gods,
And let the cheerful ray of hope dispel
This melancholy.
SÉMIRAMIS.
Is Arsaces here?
Methinks, when I but hear his name, my soul
Is less disturbed, and guilt sits lighter on me!
OTANES.
O! quit, forever quit the sad remembrance:
Let the bright days of great Sémiramis,
Replete with glory, blot one moment out
That broke the chain of thy ill-fated nuptials:
Had Ninus driven thee from his throne and bed,
All Babylon with thee had been destroyed;
But happily for us, and for mankind,
That wanted such distinguished virtues, you
Prevented him; and fifteen years of toil,
Spent in the service of thy country, lands
Desert and waste made fertile by thy care,
The savage tamed, and yielding to the laws,
The useful arts, obedient to thy voice,
Uprising still, the glorious monuments
Of wealth and power, the wonder of mankind,
And the loud plaudit of a grateful people,
All plead thy cause before the throne of heaven;
But if impartial justice hold the scale,
If vengeance is required for Ninus’ death,
Why thus should Assur brave the angry gods,
And live in peace? He was more guilty far
Than thou wert, yet the ruthless hand that poured
The fatal draught never shakes with fear: he feels
No stings of conscience, no remorse affrights him.
SÉMIRAMIS.
Our duties different, different is our fate:
Where ties are sacred, crimes are heavier far:
I was his wife, Otanes, and I stand
Without excuse; my conscience is my judge
And my accuser: but I hoped the gods,
Offended at my crimes, had punished me
Enough, when they deprived me of my child;
Hoped my successful toils, that made the earth
Respect my name, had soothed the wrath of heaven:
But months on months have passed in agony
Since this dire spectre hath appalled my soul:
My eyes forever see him, and my ears
Still hear his cries: I get me to the tomb,
But dare not enter: trembling I revere
His ashes, and invoke his honored shade,
Which only answers me in dismal groans.
Some dread event is nigh: perhaps the time
Is come to expiate the offence.
OTANES.
But thinkest thou
The spirit of thy lord hath left indeed
The mansions of the dead, and stalks abroad?
Ofttimes the soul, by powerful fancy led,
Starts at a phantom of its own creation;
Still it beholds the objects it has made,
And everything we fear is present to us.
SÉMIRAMIS.
O no! it was not the wild dream of fancy
By slumber wrought, I saw him but too well:
The stranger, Sleep, had long withheld from me
His sweet delusions; watchful as I stood,
And mused on my unhappy fate, a voice
Close to my bed, methought, cried out, “Arsaces!”
The name revived me: well thou knowest, long time
Assur has pierced this heart with deadly grief:
I shudder at his presence, and the blushes
That show my guilt increase my punishment,
Hate the reproachful witness of my shame,
And wish I could — but wherefore should I add
To crimes like mine fresh guilt? I sought Arsaces
To punish Assur, and the thought of him
Awhile relieved me! but in the sweet moment
Of consolation, sudden stood before me
That minister of death, all bathed in blood,
And in his hand a falchion: still I see,
Still hear him: comes he to defend, or punish?
‘Twas at that very hour Arsaces came.
This day was fixed by heaven to end my sorrows,
But peace is yet a stranger to my soul,
And hope is lost in horror and despair:
The load of life is grown too heavy for me,
My throne is hateful, and my glories past
But add fresh weight to my calamities.
Long time I’ve hid my sorrows from the world
And blushed in secret, fearful to consult
That reverend sage whom Babylon adores:
I would not thus degrade the majesty
Of sovereign power, or let Sémiramis
Betray her fears before a mortal’s eye,
But I have sent to Libya’s sands in secret
There to consult the oracle of Jove:
As if removed from man, the God of truth
Had hid in desert plains his will divine.
Alas! Otanes, that dread power which dwells
Within these lonely walls, hath long received
My fears and adorations; at his altars
My gifts were offered, and my incense rose;
But gifts and incense never can atone
For crimes like mine: to-day I shall receive
Answers from Memphis.
SCENE VI.
SÉMIRAMIS, OTANES, MITRANES.
MITRANES.
An Egyptian priest
Is at the palace gate, and begs admittance.
SÉMIRAMIS.
Then will my woes be ended, or complete.
Let us begone, and hide from Babylon
Her queen’s disgraceful sorrows: let Arsaces
Be sent to me: soon may his presence calm
This storm of grief, and soothe my troubled soul!
End of the First Act.