Yet Belus' self not more we own

Than great Belshazzar on Chaldea's throne.
Great Belshazzar like a god,

Rules the nations with a nod!

To great Belshazzar be the goblet crown'd!
Belshazzar's name the echoing roofs rebound!

Bel. Enough! the kindling rapture fires my brain,
And my heart dances to the flatt'ring sounds.
I feel myself a god! Why not a god?

What were the deities our fathers worshipp'd?
What was great Nimrod our imperial founder?
What greater Belus, to whose pow'r divine
We raise to-night the banquet and the song?
But youthful heroes, mortal, like myself,
Who by their daring earn'd divinity?

They were but men: nay, some were less than men,
Though now rever'd as gods. What was Anubis,
Whom Egypt's sapient sons adore? A dog!
And shall not I, young, valiant, and a king,
Dare more? do more? exceed the boldest flights
Of my progenitors? - Fill me more wine,

To cherish and exalt the young idea!
Ne'er did Olympian Jupiter himself
Quaff such immortal draughts.

[He drinks.

1st Cour. That heav'n in hope, that nothing in possession,

What could that Canaan,

That air-built bliss of the deluded Jews,

That promis'd land of milk and flowing honey;
What could that fancied Paradise bestow

To match these generous juices?

Bel.

Hold-enough!

Thou hast rous'd a thought. By Heav'n I will enjoy it :
A glorious thought! which will exalt to rapture
The pleasures of the banquet, and bestow

A yet untasted relish of delight.

1st Cour. What means the king?

Bel.

The Jews! saidst thou the Jews!

1st Cour. I spoke of that undone, that outcast people, Those tributary creatures of thy pow'r,

The captives of thy will, whose very breath
Hangs on the sovereign pleasure of the king.

Bel. When that abandon'd race was hither brought,
Were not the choicest treasures of their Temple
(Devoted to their God, and held most precious,)
Among the spoils which grac'd Nebassar's * triumph,
And lodg'd in Babylon?

1st Cour.

O king! they were.

2d Cour. The Jews, with superstitious awe, behold The sacred symbols of their ancient faith:

Nor has captivity abated aught

The rev'rend love they bear these holy relics.

Tho' we deride their law, and scorn their persons,

Yet never have we yet to human use

Devoted these rich vessels set apart
To sacred purposes.

Bel.

I joy to hear it!

Go-fetch them hither. They shall grace our banquet. Does no one stir! Belshazzar disobey'd?

The name of Nebuchadnezzar not being reducible to verse, I have adopted that of Nebassar, on the authority of the ingenious and learned Author of Judah Restored.

And yet you live? Whence comes this strange re

luctance?

This new-born rev'rence for the helpless Jews?
This fear to injure those who can't revenge it?
Send to the sacred treasury in haste.

Let all be hither brought: — who answers dies.
[They go out.
The mantling wine a higher joy will yield,
Pour'd from the precious flagons which adorn'd
Their far-fam'd Temple now in ashes laid.
Oh! 'twill exalt the pleasure into transport,
To gall those whining, praying Israelites !
I laugh to think what wild dismay will seize them
When they shall learn the use that has been made
Of all their holy trumpery!

2d Cour.

[The vessels are brought in.

It comes:

A goodly show! how bright with gold and gems!
Far fitter for a youthful monarch's board
Than the cold shrine of an unheeding God.

Bel. Fill me that massy goblet to the brim.
Now, Abraham! let thy wretched race expect
The fable of their faith to be fulfill'd;

Their second Temple and their promis'd king;
Now will they see the God they vainly serve
Is impotent to help; for had he pow'r

To hear and grant their pray'r, he would prevent
This profanation.

[As the king is going to drink, thunder is heard; he starts from the throne, spies a hand, which writes on the wall these words, MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN.

He lets fall the goblet, and stands in an attitude of speechless horror. All start, and seem terrified.]

1st Cour. [after a long pause.] Oh, transcendent horror!

2d Cour. What may this mean? The king is greatly mov'd!

3d Cour. Nor is it strange-who unappall'd can view it?

Those sacred cups! I doubt we've gone too far! 1st Cour. Observe the fear-struck king! his starting

eyes

Roll horribly. Thrice he essay'd to speak,

And thrice his tongue refus'd.

Bel. [in a low trembling voice.] Ye mystic words! Thou semblance of a hand! illusive forms!

Ye wild fantastic images! what are ye?

Dread shadows, speak! Explain your dark intent!
Ye will not answer me. - Alas! I feel

my failing limbs

Refuse to bear me up. I am no god!

Gods do not tremble thus. Support me, hold me! These loosen'd joints, these knees which smite each

other,

Betray I'm but a man

a weak one, too!

1st Cour. In truth 'tis passing strange, and full of

horror!

Bel. Send for the learn'd magicians, every sage Who deals in wizard spells and magic charms.

[Some go out.

1st Cour. How fares my lord the king?

Bel.

Am I a king?

What pow'r have I? Ye lying slaves, I am not.
Oh, soul-distracting sight! but is it real?
Perhaps 'tis fancy all, or the wild dream
Of mad distemperature, the fumes of wine!
I'll look upon 't no more! - So

now I'm well!

I am a king again, and know not fear:

And yet my eyes will seek that fatal spot,

And fondly dwell upon the sight that blasts them!
Again, 'tis there! it is not Fancy's work,

I see it still! 'tis written on the wall!
I see the writing, but the viewless writer,
Who! what is he? Oh, horror! horror! horror!
It cannot be the God of these poor Jews:
For what is He, that He can thus afflict?

2d Cour. Let not my lord the king be thus dismay'd.
3d Cour. Let not a phantom, an illusive shade,
Disturb the peace of him who rules the world.
Bel. No more, ye wretched sycophants! no more!
The sweetest note which flatt'ry now can strike,
Harsh and discordant grates upon my soul.
Talk not of pow'r to one so full of fear,
So weak, so impotent! Look on that wall;

If thou would'st soothe my soul, explain the writing,
And thou shalt be my oracle, my god!

Oh, tell me whence it came, and what it means,
And I'll believe I am again a king!

Friends! Princes! ease my troubled breast, and say,
What do the mystic characters portend?

1st Cour. 'Tis not in us, O king, to ease thy spirit: We are not skill'd in those mysterious arts Which wait the midnight studies of the sage: