SARDANAPALUS By Henri Becque

Translated and adapted by Frank J. Morlock

  • ACT I
  • ACT II
  • ACT III
  • SCENE I
  • SCENE II
  • SCENE III
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    Etext by Dagny
    


    CHARACTERS

    MYRRHA, Greek slave girl

    SARDANAPALUS, King of Assyria

    BELESES, High Priest

    SALEMENE, brother of the king

    ARBACES, Governor of Media

    PANIA, palace official

    A SOLDIER

    PRIEST, GRANDEES OF THE EMPIRE, SOLDIERS, WOMAN, Comprising the suite
    of Sardanapalus

    ++++++++++++++++++++++++

    The action takes place in Nineveh.

    ++++++++++++++++++++++++



    ACT I



    The stage represents the precinct reserved for sacrifices. To the
    right, the entrance to the Temple of Baal.


    BELESES: Behold the day.
    The God of Light
    Arises and reappears
    Without announcing to all Assyria
    The terrible decree.
    But other gods have spoken in the interim;
    I've recognized positive omens
    Which are charged with announcing to mortals
    The punishment of kings and the end of their race.

    ARBACES: Because of your secret advice, I have left Media
    Which only awaits a signal to submit to me.
    But over which and over us the king yet commands!

    BELESES: The enterprise is bold;
    I've assured myself of friends and soldiers
    Won over by my voice against this impious master.
    It's you who are going to strike, are you sure of your arm?

    ARBACES: Too powerful to serve under a shadow prince,
    I've sworn his death, alone and without your support.
    I was hoping he would come to visit my province;
    I was expecting that he would make me appear before him.
    You came seeking me out and telling me
    That the consulted gods were calling me to the empire.

    BELESES: Soon I will make you know
    The day that must make all atone,
    And from the gown of high priest
    Will emerge the arms of a warrior.

    ARBACES: Sovereign power!
    Scepter always shining before my eyes!
    Ambitious dreams,
    Enflame my courage and my hate!
    Royal cloak,
    Triumphal cloak,
    To seize you
    I mean to act!

    BELESES: Wait, still
    While in this place
    My soul implores
    The aid of the gods!
    I am going to offer to the gods a human victim
    If I read in his blood sure victory
    And the success of our plans.
    I will place the rest in your hands.

    (TOGETHER)

    ARBACES: One day more to wait,
    For the gods to name me king!

    BELESES: The gods are with you.

    ARBACES: I feel that my pride increases,
    And that the throne is near me.

    BELESES: You will be king.

    (Arbaces leaves.)

    BELESES: I can count on him.
    The offer of a crown
    Delivers him entirely to me.
    He's the one who's going to take it,
    And I'm the one who's going to give it.
    The high priest will have made a king.
    (Enter Salemene)
    But who's coming there? Hail Prince Salemene!
    What plan brings you hereabouts?

    SALEMENE: I am coming to kneel on your blessed marbles,
    To honor with you the gods of my country.
    I am coming to take my place at the bloody sacrifice,
    That's already been prepared, priest, by your holy hands.

    BELESES: Mighty Baal be once more propitious to us,
    Ward off ills and certain crimes!

    SALEMENE: Priest, don't speak of ills and crimes.
    If need be, to please the gods, the blood of a victim;
    Let's make this blood run in peace,
    But only a bold oracle.
    Priest, do not arm the wrath
    Of the weak against the powerful!

    BELESES: O prince, I can only say
    What I've already read
    In the precursive signs
    Of the most terrible misfortunes!
    Noble brother of the king, who respect in him
    The crowned heritage of your illustrious race,
    Haven't you virtues to guide you and support you?
    Why don't you reign in his place?

    SALEMENE: Priest, let's leave on his throne the son
    Of great Nimrod and Semiramis.
    Let's not raise so high a bold glance.
    Perhaps the gods have been irritated against all.
    Let's go to their knees
    To appease their wrath.

    BELESES: Come then, the victim is ready.
    They are bringing him to these parts, laden with chains.
    Let's go place ourselves at the head
    Of Chaldean priests.

    (They enter into the Temple.)

    MYRRHA: (advances slowly, she is enchained, accompanied by
    sacrificers)
    God of blood, whose image I see,
    I am going to be immolated by your savage cult.
    Your detested priests dispose of my fate,
    But already I was feeling the weight of slavery.
    Death will render me free, and I am going to die.
    Athens, charming place,
    Where my dawn rose,
    It's you I still name
    At my last moment!

    O beloved earth,
    Where I was born,
    From my first years
    Ravishing abode.
    What I knew,
    What I've lost!
    What ill I endure!
    I find you again
    Before my eyes.
    Goodbye forever!

    On this earth,
    Always beloved,
    Light cool breezes
    Will no longer be brought to me!

    This god of terror and hate
    Already hangs his sword over me.
    I will never again see the rosy and clear Sun
    Lighting the hills of Athens in the morning!

    O poetry
    Of the Nation,
    How distant you are.
    I feel my heart full
    Of memories
    And sighs!
    Beautiful mountains,
    Beautiful fields,
    Roofs of ancestors,
    Goodbye, forever!

    On this earth,
    Always beloved,
    Light cool breezes
    Will never be brought to me again!
    Goodbye forever, my beautiful country!
    If I pour tears
    Intoxicated with recollections,
    Don't fear cowardly alarms,
    And I shall know how to die like one of your children,
    And yet life was so beautiful!

    My morning promised a beautiful evening.
    But suddenly, it's death that calls me.
    Goodbye, native land, love, pride, hope!
    O death, close your somber arms!
    Why, formidable goddess,
    On the entranceway of youth,
    Do you drag me on your path?
    But let's show some courage,
    Since death breaks the chains
    Of slavery.
    Death, I love you;
    Without extreme sorrow,
    I yet see
    What I am losing.
    Yes, come O death, break my chains!

    (Funereal march. The priests slowly leave the Temple of Baal and come
    to surround the victim. The High Priest and Salemene enter.)

    BELESES: Baal, terrible and supreme god!
    Baal, the greatest of our deities!
    Ward off your curse from us,
    That you suspend from the heights of the heavens!
    We have committed more than one crime,
    But see us, at our holy altars,
    Offering to you a victim
    To spare the criminals!


    PRIESTS: Baal, terrible and supreme god, etc.

    MYRRHA: Ah! I thought death was less hard!
    Hour of terror, of torture!
    O terrible moment! Odious sacrifice
    That demands blood to honor the gods!
    Strength abandons me.
    I fear, I tremble, and I shiver;
    Around me I have no one
    To receive my farewells.

    BELESES, PRIESTS: Baal, terrible and supreme god, etc.

    (The refrain of the funeral march is interrupted by the arrival of
    Sardanapalus. The king enters preceded by young dancers and players of
    instruments.)

    SARDANAPALUS: Stop! Where are you leading her?

    BELESES: To god who demands her!

    SARDANAPALUS: High Priest, I am weary of so many cruelties.
    Do you think what pleases your divinities
    Is the death of a child, of a woman?

    BELESES: Do you know better than I,
    To whom you taught the law,
    To spell, from my childhood?
    My piety, my lore
    Are greater than yours.

    SARDANAPALUS: Nothing is greater than your king.

    BELESES: Guilty king, may nothing touch you.
    Baal has brought you here.
    You are going to hear from my mouth
    The oracle of the god of gods.
    As for me, who reads in the stars,
    And who knows the secret of the aethers,
    I predicted disasters
    That the lightning predicted to me.
    The winds roll with threats
    And in the vast emptiness
    Shine cursed icons;
    I see Baal descending,
    I see your crown in ashes,
    And your palace destroyed.

    Misfortune on this country!

    SARDANAPALUS: (going to Myrrha) Being divine, slight form
    Made to charm and seduce,
    How sweet and dear your beauty is to me.
    I am the master of the earth
    Coming to save you!

    BELESES: Child, you belong to me! Pure and noble victim.
    It is a different torture, alas much more cruel!
    The misfortune is worth more than the crime.
    Choose the harem or the altar!

    SARDANAPALUS: Being divine, slight form
    Made to charm and seduce.
    How sweet and dear your beauty is to me!

    (TOGETHER)

    SARDANAPALUS: I am the master of the earth
    Coming to save you.

    BELESES: The misfortune is worse than the crime.
    Flee the harem, climb to the altar!

    MYRRHA: Resign yourself, poor victim,
    To this cruel torture;
    Flee the harem, climb to the altar!

    MYRRHA: Priest, I want to die.

    SARDANAPALUS: And the king forbids it.
    Pania, break the chains which hold this child
    And lead her immediately to my palace.
    Priest do you think your hate
    Capable of arresting my path?
    Your victim is mine! How your wrath bursts out!
    Come then to take her in my arms
    To the party I am giving tonight on the Euphrates!
    Love calls us to the palace.
    Friends, imitate your king;
    Feast a new slave girl
    That you must adore as I do!

    TOGETHER

    BELESES: Impious and cowardly king!

    SALEMENE, PANIA: Imprudence of the king!

    MYRRHA: I am the slave of their king.

    SARDANAPALUS, CHORUS: Love calls us to the palace, etc.


    CURTAIN



    ACT II



    The stage represents the gardens of the palace. At the right a
    pavilion and marble gallery. In the distance the Euphrates flows.
    Party. Sardanapalus, stretched on a bed in the form of a throne,
    dominates the guests, grouped on couches around him here and there.
    Myrrha, standing is near the king. Night is coming on.


    CHORUS: Let us again, let us leave the hours
    To flow without uproar;
    May the feast never cease and die,
    Except with the night.

    Sweet abandon! Cherished laziness!
    Brilliant palace! Passionate climate!
    Beloved men, remain without cease
    To sigh in our arms!

    Let us again, let us leave the hours
    To flow without uproar;
    May the feast never cease and die,
    Except with the night.

    King, king of the earth,
    Your people, each day,
    Under your tutelary hand,
    Is changing its cries of war
    Into a long love song.

    The new maxims,
    Which fall from your hands,
    Make women more beautiful
    And men more humane.

    King, king of the earth,
    Your people, each day,
    Under your tutelary hand,
    Is changing its cries of war
    Into a long love song.

    (The guests are kneeling.)

    SARDANAPALUS: Rise, Myrrha!
    The whole world adores me,
    And renders homage to my blessings,
    But I form other desires.
    I still need your love.

    MYRRHA: They adore you!
    But in the noble land,
    That saw my birth,
    They didn't teach me
    To bend at the feet of a master.

    SARDANAPALUS: Well, in your noble country,
    They boast divine poets.
    Sing, Myrrha, the marriages they made;
    Sing, Myrrha, for a submissive lover.

    MYRRHA: Muse of my country,
    With a bronze lyre,
    Come closer, they invite you
    To this royal feast,
    You who sing the history
    Of a nation free and strong,
    They offer you to drink
    In a cup of gold.
    The haughty and pure muse
    Is not seated in your home?
    The eagle doesn't fly in a dark cloud,
    The virgin doesn't want an old man for a spouse.

    Muse of my land,
    In our cradles you place
    Scorn of life
    And love of heroes.
    O sisters of my youth,
    Live your entire days
    On the earth of Greece,
    In the arms of your warriors.
    To their valiant souls,
    attach yourselves forever
    They can show you brilliant wounds;
    They can tell you of Glory as well as love.

    SARDANAPALUS: Always man is prodigal with blood,
    Always with battles and death;
    I prefer to live without effort;
    I prefer to die without remorse.

    Let's drink! Our tables are filled
    With exquisite meats and divine fruits;
    The juice of perfumed liqueurs
    Makes us believe in distant worlds.
    And we have only a few years
    Which are slipping through our hands.

    Drunk up. Let them dispose
    Of such a short respite
    To celebrate the corn,
    The grape and the rose!

    Let's love! Beloved slaves,
    Leaving the intoxication of feasts
    In the shadow of decorated couches.
    Let's prolong our sweet morns,
    And we have only a few years
    Which are slipping through our hands.

    Let's love! Let them dispose, etc

    CHORUS: Let's love! Let them dispose, etc.

    SALEMENE: (entering) Lord!

    SARDANAPALUS: What do you want with me?
    Your presence is new at banquets with your king.

    SALEMENE: Lord, danger alone brings me.
    For today, leave this cup as yet full,
    For once be prudent.

    SARDANAPALUS: Time enough tomorrow! Tomorrow for business!

    SALEMENE: Already the hour has struck!
    Already the time is his!
    Tomorrow you will resume your customary dreams,
    But let's wake up today.

    SARDANAPALUS: (who has removed his crown of roses)
    Light crown,
    That I love and prefer
    To crowns of gold,
    I must toss you away, my dear,
    And you aren't faded yet.

    (The guests withdraw; Myrrha is disposed to follow them, she is
    retained by the king.)

    SARDANAPALUS: Myrrha! My Greek girl withdraws,
    My Greek girl flees, when I become king again.

    MYRRHA: Watch your health and your empire.

    SALEMENE: Lord, hear me.

    SARDANAPALUS: Child, withdraw.

    (Myrrha distances herself.)

    SARDANAPALUS: Myrrha! Return, let me give you
    A single kiss as sweet as your voice.

    MYRRHA: Protect your head and your crown.

    SALEMENE: Lord, hear me.

    SARDANAPALUS: Child, withdraw.

    (Myrrha leaves.)

    SALEMENE: Do you intend to hear me and not dream?
    I am coming in time to save you.

    SARDANAPALUS: Speak! Speak! The night is pure.
    Under the heavens,
    Already all rests and murmurs
    On the heaving breast of nature,
    Exhaling an amorous sigh.
    Speak! speak! Say what you want,

    SALEMENE: When hate and daring
    Already arm your enemies
    To destroy in a single day your empire and your race,
    Do you still recline in these sleepy parts?
    Are you waiting to show your courage
    When their sword is striking you?

    SARDANAPALUS:: Go, I have lived like a wise man
    And I will know how to die like a king.

    SALEMENE: Media is on fire. An important dispatch
    Announces to me the conspiracies and the departure of Arbaces.

    SARDANAPALUS: Arbaces! Is it really he who threatens me?
    I left him his title and his governorship
    For the fidelity he showed to my father.

    SALEMENE: The scepter was then in the hand of a warrior,
    And the ambitious choose their time.
    In this palace of infamous joys,
    Cursed palace,
    They obey you;
    Around the bed where you sleep,
    Your toadies,
    On your face crowned with roses,
    Burn incense.
    But this Arbaces, who braves you
    And who conspires in peace,
    Will hunt you like a slave
    From your palace.
    Your ancestors, whom the people admire,
    Proud and haughty,
    Used to scour their empire
    As sovereigns.
    They made their crown shine,
    Their sword, too.
    And you conceal your person
    Always here.
    But Arbaces, who braves you
    And conspires in peace,
    Will hunt you like a slave
    From your palace.

    SARDANAPALUS: You say my people are rising?

    SALEMENE: A revolt led by malcontents.

    SARDANAPALUS: But if my hand grasps the sword
    Their repentance will be bloody.
    (pause)
    Look at this peaceful night.
    My people are sleeping in peace.
    Far from me, useless terror,
    Love, god of the night, watch over my palace.

    SALEMENE: Go, you are no longer king of Assyria;
    You are no longer king, you are no longer king.

    SARDANAPALUS: Well, protect my folly.
    It's you who are going to reign for me.
    (going to the back)
    Take the crown and the royal purple;
    Take the scepter of gold, the sword of battles.
    To you, divine honors and triumphal parades,
    Command the council, the vassals, the soldiers.

    (The Chorus enters, slaves bear the royal insignia. Sardanapalus and
    the slaves place the royal mantle on Salemene.)

    SARDANAPALUS: Cover yourself with the cloak
    That my hand abandons to you.
    Obey. I order it.
    The burden of power, the defense of the throne,
    All rest on you.
    Honor, honor to the king.

    CHORUS: Honor, honor to the king!

    ARBACES (appearing in the pavilion and pointing to Salemene)
    One step raises me to the throne or hurls me in the abyss!
    Terrible visions which precede crime,
    Don't make my arm or my dagger tremble.
    Let him die! —- It is too late.

    (Sardanapalus retires. The guests have resumed the places they
    occupied at the beginning of the scene. Salemene casts off his cape.)

    SALEMENE: Get up and let's fight.
    Abandon your party beds.

    CHORUS: Let's drink! Let's drink!

    SALEMENE: Leave off love and singing
    When the sword is over your head.

    CHORUS: Let's love! Let's love!

    SALEMENE: They don't hear me;
    They are deaf to the voice which speaks of battles.
    O my country, o city of my fathers,
    Which hurls so much lustre on earth
    Between your sisters you shone most
    In the heavens your star is going to pale.
    I hear the storm
    And my courage
    Cannot save you from shipwreck.
    The winds are driving you to shore.
    Yes, I see you destroying yourself on the waves,
    And sure of your end, I shed my tears.
    Empire of Assyria,
    I am making a useless effort to save you.
    Let me find death
    Rather than be present at your fall, O Fatherland!

    CHORUS: (falling asleep)Allow us still, allow us a few hours
    To spend without disturbance;
    Let the feast not cease and die
    Except with the night.

    SALEMENE: O Fatherland
    Hear them!
    Impious feast!
    The noise of the battles they are forgetting
    Will come to awaken this palace.

    (He falls annihilated on the couch previously occupied by
    Sardanapalus. Night has come. Arbaces reappears and advances prudently
    through the sleeping groups. Ritornelle. The king crosses the back of
    the stage dragging Myrrha. Arbaces stops, and when they've passed
    runs to Salemene and kills him. At the scream uttered by Salemene, the
    Chorus awakes.)

    CHORUS: A scream of agony and distress
    Comes to surprise us in our intoxication.
    The prince! O cruel spectacle.
    He's been struck a mortal blow.

    SARDANAPALUS: What is this uproar that comes to trouble my peace?

    PANIA: It's a scream of sorrow, it's a signal of war.
    A traitor, an assassin has entered the palace.

    SARDANAPALUS: What's he say?

    PANIA: Look.

    SARDANAPALUS: Ah! my brother, my brother!
    Last support of the throne, proud and heroic soul!
    The blow which struck you must strike the king.
    I am going to avenge your death or die with you.
    Soldiers, soldiers awake.
    Under the standard of my fathers,
    Of your ancient wars
    Have memory, friends.
    Let's march! Our bold steps
    Will surprise these daredevils.
    Of your ancient wars
    Have memory, friends.
    Arm your arms
    For battle;
    Spill the blood of these rebels.
    Faithful soldiers,
    Lead me;
    Show your king the way!

    (They bring a sword and cuirass to Sardanapalus.)

    MYRRHA: What new feeling grips my spirit!
    Great king! You are no more a barbarian!
    You are rising like a hero from the bed of sensuality.
    Ah! stay this way! I think I'm seeing Achilles himself.
    Dragging his untamed brothers to battle.
    I love you!

    SARDANAPALUS: (then the Chorus)
    Soldiers, soldiers awake, etc.


    CURTAIN



    ACT III




    SCENE I



    A dusty road near Nineveh.


    BELESES: Our astonished soldiers have fled like women
    At the very aspect of the king standing in their path.
    They are already pursuing with their infamous outcries
    The priest who put arms in their hands.

    Baal, cast a favorable glance
    On your faithful servant;
    Protect your humble adorer.

    Face in the dust,
    I was living in prayer,
    Despairing guardian
    Of your sacred temple.

    Weeping in the shadow,
    This somber and detested
    Reign,
    Demanding mercy
    For so much audacity
    And impiety.

    One day I thought I heard you and your powerful voice
    Exhorting me to punish and overthrow the king.

    I took up the sword for your glory,
    Priest and soldier of your altars,
    You hold victory in your hand,
    You've given it to criminals.
    I see your name and your memory
    In man's home fallen into scorn
    And your temples will be destroyed.

    CHORUS: (of Priests and soldiers, entering)
    Misfortune on you.
    Priest without faith,
    Who promised miracles.
    Misfortune on you.
    Priest without faith,
    You lied to us in your oracles.

    BELESES: Men without piety, conspirators without virtue,
    Allow the gods time to accomplish their miracles.
    Wait, and don't flee any more.

    ARBACES: Cursed priest, you promised me the empire.
    The gods, you told me, will battle with us.
    This great king seemed to you so easy to destroy
    When you saw the people groveling at his feet.

    REFRAIN BY CHORUS: Misfortune on you, etc.

    BELESES: (cupping his ear) What's that uproar?
    (enter a soldier)
    Soldier, what news?

    SOLDIER: The Euphrates is overflowing.

    BELESES: The Euphrates has overflowed!
    This miracle, soldiers, that your voice calls for,
    The god who leads us has just granted us.

    ARBACES: The Euphrates has overflowed! Repeat your message.

    SOLDIER: The stream, swelled, already on its passage
    Has filled the ditches and destroyed the ramparts
    Which in an instant, are going to collapse.
    The people loudly curse Sardanapalus.
    We can attack the royal dwelling
    Whose trembling soldiers will die under our daggers.

    BELESES: Soldiers, see down there the river overflowing.
    Be grateful for the support the gods are giving you.
    This dazzling miracle, that their hand grants to you,
    Must give courage to pious men.
    To Baal address your ardent prayers.
    He will pardon your doubts, your terrors.
    He will make you conquerors.

    ARBACES AND THE CHORUS: Inspired priest, lead us to battle;
    We will march at your heels.


    CURTAIN


    SCENE II



    A Hall in the Palace.


    MYRRHA: Silence and night spread their alarms;
    Two long days have passed without news of the king.
    Ah! If he dies, I will die! The distant flash of arms
    Shines at intervals and freezes me with terror.

    O king, if fate abandons you,
    My life is yours forever.
    They can take your crown from you
    But love's crown you will keep.
    The scepter is a burden
    That overwhelms and crushes you;
    Let it go to live near me
    For our hearts
    Let's seek at the foot of the Caucasus
    A valley embedded with flowers.

    Strangers to the uproars of the earth,
    There we will live in the mystery.
    The charming echo of this retreat
    Will only hear words of love.
    Ah! Come, let's carry to a solitary place
    Our two hearts irrevocably united
    O king, if fate abandons you, etc.

    But the uproar of combats is getting closer —- Great gods!
    I see our enemies everywhere victorious.
    The king is fighting in this crowd
    He is wounded —- I've seen his blood being shed.

    SARDANAPALUS (entering) The battle is lost.
    I am going to rejoin my ancestors.

    PANIA: Flee, lord, reach an unknown plain
    From which you will reassemble more numerous help.

    SARDANAPALUS: What are you speaking of flight for?
    No! I will not flee!
    Triumphant traitors are advancing on our heels,
    They would like, slaves in fury,
    To take Sardanapalus alive.
    I order you instantly to set the palace ablaze!
    Those who have loved me will remain; for the others
    Those who have never had hearts like ours
    I allow them to go in peace to surrender to the conquerors.

    PANIA: What are you requiring of me? Death and conflagration.

    SARDANAPALUS: I wish it.

    PANIA: Reject this impious thought.

    SARDANAPALUS: I order you immediately to set this palace ablaze!

    (Exit Pania.)

    SARDANAPALUS: (to Myrrha) Didn't you hear the order I've given?
    Leave instantly; depart.

    MYRRHA: I'm staying.

    SARDANAPALUS: What's she saying?
    She hesitates to flee this funereal place.
    Our hour has struck.
    After having saved you once from death,
    Do you think that my hand condemns and drives you to it?

    MYRRHA: Here death is sweet,
    I will die in your arms.

    SARDANAPALUS: No! no! You won't die!
    Noble woman,
    Love fills your soul,
    But I must
    Perish without you.
    Your youth is there calling you.
    To die so soon, why that's dying twice.

    MYRRHA: No, I am dying without regrets.
    I mean to leave with you, in flames,
    So that even death will forever
    Unite our souls!

    SARDANAPALUS: The fire's lit, time presses,
    Yet one more caress,
    And then think to flee;
    I alone wish to die.

    MYRRHA: The fire's lit, time presses,
    Yet one more caress,
    And let's seek in death
    An eternal ecstacy.

    SARDANAPALUS: Let me order you to live.

    MYRRHA: In your arms danger intoxicates me.
    Let's demand of death
    An eternal ecstacy.

    SARDANAPALUS: Goodbye, sweet and faithful friend,
    A single kiss, and then think of your life.

    MYRRHA: No, I am dying without regrets.
    I mean to leave with you, in flames,
    So that even death will forever
    Unite our souls!

    TOGETHER

    SARDANAPALUS: Ah! Your youth and your life,
    Your heart sacrifices them to me.
    But hear my voice, which screams to you,
    Myrrha, flee death!

    MYRRHA: Ah! my youth and my life,
    My heart sacrifices to you.
    Hear my voice, which screams to you,
    I mean to share your fate.

    SARDANAPALUS: Get out of here! The sword approaches and the palace is
    set ablaze. You've only got a moment.

    MYRRHA: And you, you would die alone,
    Without friends and without wife.
    This funeral pyre belongs to me,
    As I to you, my lover.

    SARDANAPALUS: Get out of here.

    MYRRHA: I'm staying.

    SARDANAPALUS: Well, you wish it;
    Let's die together!

    TOGETHER: The fire's lit, time presses,
    Yet one more caress.
    Let's demand of death
    An eternal ecstacy.


    CURTAIN


    SCENE III



    The funeral pyre.


    SARDANAPALUS, MYRRHA, The CHORUS:
    Let's love until the last hour!
    Let's love in the arms of death!
    We are departing for another dwelling
    Where we can love again!

    (Conflagration.)


    CURTAIN