And Daniel falls into the deep-laid toils Sor. Phar. On the instant : Scarce is the deed accomplish'd. As he made His ostentatious pray'r, e'en in the face His windows were not clos'd. Our chosen bands, Whom we had plac'd to note him, straight rush'd in, And seiz'd him in the warmth of his blind zeal, Ere half his pray'r was finish'd. Young Araspes, With all the wild extravagance of grief, Prays, weeps, and threatens. Daniel silent stands, With patient resignation, and prepares To follow them.-But see, the king proaches! Thy plotting genius to redeem the life ap-Of venerable Daniel! 'Tis too late. He has offended 'gainst the new decree; Has dar'd to make petition to his God, Although the dreadful sentence of the act Full well he knew. And by th' establish'd law Sor. How's this? deep sorrow sits upon his brow, And stern resentment fires his angry eye! Enter DARIUS. Dar. O, deep-laid stratagem! O, artful wile! To take me unprepar'd, to wound my heart, E'en where it feels most tenderly, in friendship! To stab my fame! to hold me up a mark Who now shall trust Darius? Not a slave Will blot my honour with eternal stain ! Phar. Of Media, by that irrevocable, Which he has dar'd to violate, he dies! Dar. Impiety! presumption ! monstrous law! Irrevocable? Is there aught on earth Deserves that name? Th' eternal laws alone Of Oromasdes are unchangeable! To load me with reproaches? to upbraid me Phar. He prepares to meet his fate. This hour he dies, for so the act decrees. Dar. Suspend the bloody sentence. Bring him hither. Who could foresee that Daniel would per-Or Oppose the king's decree? So long an interval of pray'r. But I, rather let me seek him and implore His dying pardon, and his parting pray'r. PART VI. Scene-Daniel's house, DANIEL, ARASPES. Ara. STILL let me follow thee; still let me hear The voice of Wisdom, ere the silver cord Dan. Thou should'st rejoice my pilgrimage is o'er, And the blest heaven of repose in view. Ara. And must I lose thee, Daniel? must thou die? Dan. And what is death, my friend, that I should fear it? To die! why 'tis to triumph; 'tis to join The great assembly of the good and just ; Immortal worthies, heroes, prophets, saints! Oh! 'tis to join the band of holy men, Made perfect by their sufferings! 'Tis to meet My great progenitors! 'Tis to behold Th' illustrious patriarchs; they with whom the Lord Deign'd hold familiar converse. 'Tis to see Bless'd Noah and his children, once a world! "Tis to behold, oh, rapture to conceive! Those we have known, and lov'd, and lost, below! Bold Azariah, and the band of brothers, Who sought, in bloom of youth, the scorching flames! Nor shall we see heroic men alone, Champions who fought the fight of faith on earth; But heavenly conquerors, angelic hosts, Michael and his bright legions, who subdu'd The foes of truth! To join their blest employ Of love and praise! to the high melodies Of choirs celestial to attune my voice, Accordant to the golden harps of saints! To join in blest hosannahs to their king! Whose face to see whose glory to behold, Alone were heaven, though saint or seraph Of fierce resentment; but I cannot stand That touching silence, nor that patient eye Of meek respect. Dan. Thou art my master still. Dar. I am thy murderer! I have sign'd thy death! Dan. I know thy bent of soul is honourable: Thou hast been gracious still! Were it not So, I would have met th' appointment of high Heaven With humble acquiescence; but to know Thy will concurr'd not with thy servant's fate, Adds joy to resignation. Thou shalt have ample vengeance. Myself will recompense, with even hand, A little longer, then have sunk to rest It is to bear the miseries of a people! To hear their murmurs, feel their discontents, And sink beneath a load of splendid care! To have your best success ascrib'd to Fortune, And Fortune's failures all ascrib'd to you! To every blast of changing fate expos'd! Of social freedom, and tlr' endearing charm And I have murder'd him! Dan. My hour approaches Hate not my mem'ry, king: protect Aras pes: Encourage Cyrus in the holy work [They embrace. Hear, future kings! Ye unborn rulers of the nation, hear! Learn from my crime, from my misfortune Release him, bring him hither! break the learn, Never to trust to weak or wicked hands, PART VII. rising. seal Which keeps him from me! See, Araspes! look! See the charm'd lions!-Mark their mild demeanor: Araspes, mark!-they have no pow'r to hurt him! See how they hang their heads and smooth Scene-The court of the palace.—The sun At his mild aspect! DARIUS, ARASPES. Dar. Oh, good Araspes! what a night of To me the dawning day brings no return These loathing lips, since Daniel's fate was Hear what my fruitless penitence resolves- prav'r, And all due rites of grief. For thirty days Torn piece-meal! Never hide thy tears, Tis virtuous sorrow, unalloy'd, like mine, So often and so fervently, has heard him! [He goes to the mouth of the den. O, Daniel, servant of the living God! From the devouring lion's famish'd jaw, Dan. (from the bottom of the den.) He Dar. Methought I heard him speak! Of strong imagination! were thy voice wake him Aras. Ah, he comes, he comes! brothers Essay'd the caldron's flame, supported me! Ready to hear, and mighty to redeem ! Dar. (to Aras.) Where is Pharnaces? Take too Soranus, and the chief abettors Of this dire edict: let not one escape. For holy Daniel, on their heads shall fall Take care that none escape-Go, good Dan. [Araspes goes out. this, Shalt thou e'er make in vain. Approach, my friends; Araspes has already spread the tale, Peo. Dar. Draw near, my subjects. See this holy man ! Death had no pow'r to harm him. Yon fell band Of famish'd lions, soften'd at his sight, Forgot their nature and grew tame before | Who sits in glory unapproachable And all the meanness of high-crested pride, Araspes will not hear. You heard not me,' Dar. That I may banish from the minds of men From fair Chaldea to the extremest bound And spread my royal mandate through the That all my subjects bow the ready knee Above the heavens above the heaven of His pow'r is everlasting; and HIS throne, One ever-during chain of miracles! REFLECTIONS OF KING HEZEKIAH, 'Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die.'—Isaiah, xxxviii. WHAT, and no more?-Is this my soul, My whole of being! Must I surely die? Of youth's fair promise, and of pleasure's Shall I no more behold the face of morn, The cheerful daylight, and the spring's return? Must I the festive pow'r the banquet leave, Have I consider'd what it is to die? Shall hail great Hezekiah in the grave. Where's he, who falsely claim'd the name of great? Whose eye was terror, and whose frown was fate? Who aw'd an hundred nations from the throne? See where he lies, dumb, friendless, and alone! Which grain of dust proclaims the noble Which is the royal particle of earth? Which is the slave, and which great David's Alas! the beggar's ashes are not known survey The debt Eternal Justice bids thee pay! Should I frail Memory's records strive to blot, Will Heaven's tremendous reck'ning be forgot? Can I, alas! the awful volume tear? meet.' So spake the warning prophet.-Awful words! Which fearfully my troubled soul records. Is all in order set, my house, my heart? Did I each day for this great day prepare, By righteous deeds, by sin-subduing pray'r? Did I each night, each day's offence re Did gen'rous Candour mark me for her friend? Did I unjustly seek to build my name The sneer profane, and the poor ridicule If so I liv'd, if so I kept thy word, 16 I charm'd th' Assyrian by my boast of wealth! How fondly, with elab'rate pomp display'd My glitt'ring treasures! with what triumph laid My gold and gems before his dazzled eyes, Which of the man himself is not a part! terms! worms! Of all the wonders which th' eventful life Of this short life how large a portions' fled! Can I again my worn-out fancy cheat? Of these, my soul, which hast thou not enjoy'd? With each, with all, thy sated pow'rs are cloy'd. What can I then expect from length of days? More wealth, more wisdom, pleasure, health, or praise? More pleasure! hope not that, deluded king! For when did age increase of pleasure bring? Is health, of years prolong'd the common boast? And dear-earn'd Fame, is it not cheaply lost? More wisdom! that indeed were happiness; That were a wish a king might well confess; But when did Wisdom covet length of days? Or seek its bliss in pleasures, wealth, or praise? No:-Wisdom views with an indifferent |