talk of as the favourite pastime
Of thy far father-land. Nay, weep not--calm thee.

_Myr._ I weep not.--But I pray thee, do not speak 520
About my fathers or their land.

_Sar._ Yet oft
Thou speakest of them.

_Myr._ True--true: constant thought
Will overflow in words unconsciously;
But when another speaks of Greeks, it wounds me.

_Sar._ Well, then, how wouldst thou _save_ me, as thou saidst?

_Myr._ By teaching thee to save thyself, and not
Thyself alone, but these vast realms, from all
The rage of the worst war--the war of brethren.

_Sar._ Why, child, I loathe all war, and warriors;
I live in peace and pleasure: what can man 530
Do more?

_Myr._ Alas! my Lord, with common men
There needs too oft the show of war to keep
The substance of sweet peace; and, for a king,
'Tis sometimes better to be feared than loved.

_Sar._ And I have never sought but for the last.

_Myr._ And now art neither.

_Sar._ Dost _thou_ say so, Myrrha?

_Myr._ I speak of civic popular love, _self_-love,
Which means that men are kept in awe and law,
Yet not oppressed--at least they must not think so,
Or, if they think so, deem it necessary, 540
To ward off worse oppression, their own passions.
A King of feasts, and flowers, and wine, and revel,
And love, and mirth, was never King of Glory.

_Sar._ Glory! what's that?

_Myr._ Ask of the Gods thy fathers.

_Sar._ They cannot answer; when the priests speak for them,
'Tis for some small addition to the temple.

_Myr._ Look to the annals of thine Empire's founders.

_Sar._ They are so blotted o'er with blood, I cannot.
But what wouldst have? the Empire _has been_ founded.
I cannot go on multiplying empires. 550

_Myr._ Preserve thine own.

_Sar._ At least, I will enjoy it.
Come, Myrrha, let us go on to the Euphrates:
The hour invites, the galley is prepared,
And the pavilion, decked for our return,
In fit adornment for the evening banquet,
Shall blaze with beauty and with light, until
It seems unto the stars which are above us
Itself an opposite star; and we will sit
Crowned with fresh