n the Sun shines.

_Myr._ And I would ask if this your palace were
Unroofed and desolate, how many flatterers
Would lick the dust in which the King lay low?

_Alt._ The fair Ionian is too sarcastic
Upon a nation whom she knows not well;
The Assyrians know no pleasure but their King's,
And homage is their pride.

_Sar._ Nay, pardon, guests,
The fair Greek's readiness of speech.

_Alt._ _Pardon!_ sire: 60
We honour her of all things next to thee.
Hark! what was that?

_Zam._ That! nothing but the jar
Of distant portals shaken by the wind.

_Alt._ It sounded like the clash of--hark again!

_Zam._ The big rain pattering on the roof.

_Sar._ No more.
Myrrha, my love, hast thou thy shell in order?
Sing me a song of Sappho[18]; her, thou know'st,
Who in thy country threw----

_Enter_ PANIA, _with his sword and garments bloody, and
disordered. The guests rise in confusion_.

_Pan._ (_to the Guards_). Look to the portals;
And with your best speed to the walls without.
Your arms! To arms! The King's in danger. Monarch 70
Excuse this haste,--'tis faith.

_Sar._ Speak on.

_Pan._ It is
As Salemenes feared; the faithless Satraps----

_Sar._ You are wounded--give some wine. Take breath, good Pania.

_Pan._ 'Tis nothing--a mere flesh wound. I am worn
More with my speed to warn my sovereign,
Than hurt in his defence.

_Myr._ Well, Sir, the rebels?

_Pan._ Soon as Arbaces and Beleses reached
Their stations in the city, they refused
To march; and on my attempt to use the power
Which I was delegated with, they called 80
Upon their troops, who rose in fierce defiance.

_Myr._ All?

_Pan._ Too many.

_Sar._ Spare not of thy free speech,
To spare mine ears--the truth.

_Pan._ My own slight guard
Were faithful, and what's left of it is still so.

_Myr._ And are these all the force still faithful?

_Pan._ No--
The Bactrians, now led on by Salemenes,
Who even then was on his way, stil