The Fall Of Nineveh. Book The Ninth Poem by Edwin Atherstone

All night in slumber deep the armies lay:
But, while the eastern sky with first faint beam
Yet dimly reddened; in both camps arose
The stir of war preparing: arms were donned;
Chariots in order set; and neighing steeds
In gleaming mail caparisoned. Anon,
Eager for onset, the Assyrian king
Bade sound the signal: and, in firm array,
His mighty force moved on. The Medes, meantime,
For combat harnessed, toward the kindling east
In reverence looking, yet awhile stood mute;
The god to wait, whose tresses, flaming bright,
Above the horizon's brim already waved.
But, when his burning forehead he 'gan lift,
Then every knee was bent; and every voice,
With softened tone, in words like these, began:
``Glorious and mighty God! hear thou our prayer!
Give to our arms the victory; for our cause
Is righteous: but, this enemy accursed,
Let him before the terrors of thine eye
Be withered utterly.'' Such prayer apart
Each whispered. Like the breath of the soft wind,
That in the forest depths the sear leaves shakes;
Murmured the voice of that great multitude.

Breaking upon it with air--shivering blast,--
Thousands together, as from one vast mouth,--
Blared out the Assyrian trumpets. To their feet
Sprang then the Medes; and from the throats of brass
Sent the quick answer; proudly flinging back
Mortal defiance. That endured not long
In patience the hot king. From rank to rank,
In his bright chariot flying like the wind;
Vehémently he cried and urged them on:
``Go to the battle! trample them as dust!
As in a wine--press tread them; that their blood,
Like red wine, may gush forth beneath your feet!''

So he incessantly; and with his words
To hottest fury stirred them. But the Medes,--
Their tents all struck; their oxen, camels, wains,
Far in the rear, for sudden march prepared,--
Firmly stood waiting: for Arbaces thus
Spake to the captains nigh: ``Behold ye not
With what fierce wrath inflamed the foe comes on?
Yet, let us not midway to meet him go:
But here abide; the toil of march, so far,
To him resigning; somewhat of his strength,
If not his rage, thus haply to subdue.
Abiding here, vantage we have beside:
For, if o'ercome, unto the mountain holds
Shall we be nigher; if victorious,
The farther from his sheltering walls our foe.''

Thus having said, amid the ranks he rode,
And, with his voice and look, into their hearts
Valour infused, and ardor for the fight.

So stood they waiting; and beheld afar,
Shining like fire beneath the slanting rays,
The coming of the vast Assyrian force,
Gorgeously dreadful. Like a sea of fire,
O'er the wide plain it rolled; rolled rapidly;
Like an o'erflooding ocean. High upraised,
Thousands of ensigns to and fro were waved;
And, from ten thousand martial instruments,
Inspiring sounds arose. That sight, unawed,
The Medes beheld: yet many hearts beat quick;
And many a thought of home far off awoke;
Of children, anxious wife, or maid beloved,
Or parent weak in age. But, nigher now,
Exulting in their strength, the dazzling ranks
Came onward; loudly vaunting, on they came.
First in the van, with helms and breastplates bright,
Of burnished brass--were archers, that bore swords;
And spearmen, sheathed in brass. A hundred deep,
Close thronged--all treading as one man, came these.
Behind were horsemen; man and steed alike
Flaming in brass; their captains, in rich mail
Of steel and gold; with helmets burnished bright,
And plumes of every hue. From space to space,--
Amid the horsemen mingled; yet apart,
Orderly ranked--bright flaming chariots came,
Iron, or brass; the steeds in mail of brass,
Glorious to look upon: on either hand,
Beyond the archers and the spearmen far,
Like glittering wings, they stretched. A space behind,
An arrow--flight, appeared; then squadrons dense,
In mail complete, that sword and buckler bore:
Spearmen; and those that battle--axe, or mace
Terrific, wielded: upon either flank,
Archers and slingers: and again, behind,
Chariots and horsemen,--that the multitude,
Innumerous as the ocean--waves appeared.

Amid the foremost cars, conspicuous most,
Shone the great chariot of Assyria's king.
Like that intensest glory, on the waves
Rolling in light, where the Day--god himself
His quivering image prints,--so, 'mid that throng,
He, with the thousand of his royal guard,
Above their radiance, dazzling radiant, flamed.

But when, approaching now, the Medes he saw
Motionless still, as not on conflict bent;
Inly he marvelled: and the signal gave
The advance to stay. To Salamenes then,
Who in a chariot at his right hand rode,
Doubtfully thus he spake: ``What means the foe?
Why comes he not to combat? Fears he, then?
Or in some snare to lure us doth he hope?''

That said; nor answer waiting; thus in haste
A herald he bespake; ``Go forth, and cry,
`Why come ye not to meet us? Do ye fear?
Or will ye brave the battle? But, submit:
Fling down your insolent arms; and pardon sue;
Or, like the sand shall ye be trodden down.'''

The herald heard, and went. His swift approach
Arbaces marked; and, with the priest, advanced.
The summons heard, thus firmly he replied.
``Say to the king, we fear not, nor will yield--
His strength well knowing, and our own. Nor slow
To battle will he find us; other means
Should he disdain. If, by few peaceful words,
We might save seas of blood--surely accursed
Were both, such good rejecting! Will the king,--
Two chosen captains bringing,--in the space
'Twixt either van, for peaceful conference,
Of ours three also meet? So, haply, words,
Better than swords, may 'twixt us arbitrate.''

The herald bowed, and went. Belesis then,
Displeased and doubtful, to his comrade thus:
``Not wise in this I deem thee. Idle all,
And vain the attempt, yon haughty tyrant's will
By words to bend! As easily thy breath
Might force the agëd oak to bow the knee,
And quiver like a reed. Nor will our troops,
Us doubtful thus beholding, aught infer
But fear in us; and of themselves distrust:
Dire presage! Yet, the thing by Heaven decreed,
Man vainly strives to avert. Thy words of peace
The king will scorn; and blindly to his doom
Go onward; for the day is nigh at hand,
When the oppressor shall become as chaff
Before the tempest; and the haughty walls,
As cinders in the furnace.'' To these words
Arbaces answered: ``That which God foredooms,
Surely must come to pass; but, through what means,
He solely can direct. With fire and sword
Alone, He worketh not; nor warrior's strength
Needeth His will to do. If words of peace
May free the nations; let the hateful steel
Rust in the scabbard! If to sword and spear
The task hath been appointed,--for the work
Not less shall we be ready. In God's hands,
The feeble instruments alone are we;
And, as He wills, must move.'' With words like these,
The prophet he appeased. Before the king,
Meantime, the herald stood; and trembling spake.
Frowning, the monarch heard, and cried,--``Begone!
Say to the insolent rebel, `Once again,
Once only, doth the king in pity speak.
Your words he will not hearken: bow to earth,
And in the dust his clemency implore;
Else, will he send the swift destruction forth;
And every man shall perish.''' With calm voice,
Then Salamenes thus: ``The chance of war
Is doubtful ever. In this awful pause,
Haply their hearts may soften; and to words,
Calmly and wisely urged, they may give heed.
Let then the king a little while forbear;
While I, alone, or with some chosen chief,
Brief conference with them hold. If, obdurate,
They will not listen; theirs alone the guilt!
Theirs be the punishment!'' To him the king:
``Go then: and take with thee whomso thou wilt.
But guard 'gainst treachery: and linger not:
For, as I live, they will my mercy scorn;
And shall the wrath, suspended, heavier feel.''

Well pleased, the noble prince amid the ranks
Passed in his chariot; and Nebaioth called.
The summons, with glad heart Nebaioth heard,
And to the car ascended. Swiftly then,
With heralds at their side, they took their way.

Arriving, Salamenes thus the first,
In mild tone, spake. ``With rebels to confer,
Assyria's monarch comes not: nor your hope,
Though proud, so high could soar. In mercy, yet
Once more, once only, doth he call on you;
Free pardon offering; so your impious arms
Ye will abandon, and forgiveness beg:
Else, will suspended ruin be let loose;
And mercy quite shut out!'' With face inflamed,
To answer him Belesis started up;
But, him preventing, first Arbaces thus:
``Justice, not mercy, prince, do we demand;
And can enforce: his threats we hold in scorn.
Nor, that on equal terms of conference
To meet us he should come, so proudly bold
The thought we deem; since, in the battle--field,
Our equal scarce he proved. Slight hope can be
From strife of tongues, when deadlier arguments
Are ready to convince: nay, false himself,
Our faith perchance he doubts, and fears to come:
Yet, with all else than him, were words but vain:
Stay ye, then, in the camp, my hostages;
And unto him will I myself go forth;
And this dull burning quench; or stir to flame.
If this content you, then a herald send;
And let the king decide.'' With joy, his words
The Assyrians heard; and Salamenes thus
Made answer: ``Wise and noble, gallant prince!
In this thing dost thou show; and highest praise
From all deservest; and wilt have. Ourselves,
The fittest heralds, to the king will speed;
Nor to return be slow: but ye, the while,
Upon the fearful chance of warfare think;
And wisdom learn, though late.'' That said, at once
The steeds he turned; and flew along the plain.
But, still displeased, Belesis shook the head,
His friend reproving. From their chariots, then,
Both 'lighted; and, close standing, in low tone,
Conferred on what might chance--evil, or good,--
And, if the worst, on what best remedy were.

Meantime, the peaceful message to the king
The noble heralds bore; and soon returned.
Arriving, from the chariot they leaped down;
And Salamenes thus: ``The king thy words
Will hearken: go, and fear not: by his throne,
And by Assyria's gods, he hath made oath,
That no man's hand shall touch thee. We, the while,
Thy hostages remain: and, as to thee,
Evil, or good is done, so, unto us,
Be good, or evil, also!'' Heralds then
Arbaces summoned: briefly with the priest
Apart discoursed; and to his chariot sprang.

But horsemen instantly Belesis called;
And to the Arabian king, who on the left,
Far off, his station held, thus bade them say:
``Arbaces to Assyria's king is gone:
Should ill befall him, over all the host,
Thee hath he named the captain. Hasten then;
That counsel prompt, if needful, we may take.''

These things beholding, in the Medes arose
Unquiet thoughts; for, of their chief's return,
Inly they doubted: nor their fears aloud
To tell, spared many. But, with aspect calm,
From rank to rank Belesis rode; with words,
And smiles, their hearts emboldening. Meantime,
The coming of their enemy renowned,
Through all the Assyrian squadrons was made known:
And death the doom proclaimed on him whose hand
Against him should be lifted. Every eye,
To look on him was greedy; so his deeds
Had made him glorious; every tongue was mute.

Upon a gentle mound; o'er all the plain
Conspicuous; in his chariot sat the king.
Yet now on him looked none. The very chiefs
Attendant on him--forms forgetting quite--
Full in the chariot's front went hastily:
There, closely gathered,--each upon his spear
Resting the hand,--for the illustrious Mede,
With straining eyes peered out; while distant yet,
Eager to spy him. Even the king himself,
Maugre his pride, a furtive glance oft cast,
The approach awaiting. Soon, a glittering car
Outshooting from the hostile ranks was seen.
Like to a meteor o'er a swampy vale,
Swiftly and smoothly gliding, on it burned.
A hum of expectation, through the host,
As it drew near, arose; and every eye
To view the heroic Mede strained anxiously.
Him to conduct, the attendant heralds then
Went forth; and, as they went, their trumpets blew.

Arrived, from out his car Arbaces leaped;
And through the gazing ranks,--with steadfast brow,
And lightning eye, to this side, and to that,
Alternate glancing,--walked. In his right hand,
A ponderous lance he bore: on his left arm,
The golden shield: the sword was on his thigh.
Mighty and dreadless as a battle--god,
To every eye he seemed. His ardent face,
On the beholder turned, like fire shone out;
Fearfully beautiful. From far beheld,
Above the glittering ranks his nodding plume,
Like some bright sea--bird on the sparkling waves,
Majestically sailed. Him, drawing nigh,
The king beheld; and, rising in him, felt
Envy, and admiration; not with dread
Mysterious quite unmixed; though unconfessed;
And quickly shaken off. But anger, soon,
And fierce disdain, within his soul awoke;
As, in his presence now, all unabashed,
With calm imperial look, the lofty Mede
To him, as to an equal, coldly bowed;
And to his chiefs not less; his rapid eye
Glancing on all. With stern voice, and dark brow,
Him thus the king bespake: ``With such a front
Audacious, in the presence of thy king
Daring to stand--ill only canst thou bring;
And my great clemency, unmerited,
On ingrate vassals hath been cast away.
But better lesson, doubtless, thy new school
Hath taught thee, than the senseless reverence,
In the antique time, by fools to monarchs paid.
An humble suitor, even in the dust
Forgiveness begging, looked I to behold.
Thine insolent demeanour, chastisement,
Signal and swift, deserves; but, by my throne,
And by the Gods above us, have I sworn,
Untouched that hither thou shouldst come and go:
Nor shall my oath be vain. What thou wouldst say,
Speak then; but briefly: for thy countenance,
A sure interpreter, proclaims thee still
Rebel at heart, and conference but a mock.''

So he, incensed; and thus the Mede replied:
``Falsely expecting, thou the more art chafed:
Hoping a slave, the less canst equal brook:
For, when our swords in equal conflict met,
Became we also equals. Yet, if vain
Our conference prove--not justly unto me
The fault shall be imputed: for, in peace
Come I to speak; and patiently to hear.
But, at thy feet to fall, and pardon sue--
Expect not to behold me: we are strong;
For strife prepared; and confident in Heaven.
Yet, such a bloody torrent to prevent
As this day threats to slake the thirsty earth;
Glad should we be; so not a greater ill
The purchased good bring on us. Peace we seek;
And life we love: but honorable death
Far rather choose, than life in abject bonds.
King of Assyria! why should every knee
Of all the nations bow before thy throne?
Why must their riches in thy chests be poured?
Why must their sons thy trembling bondsmen be?
For thee alone were women formed so fair?
For thee our wives beloved, our maids betrothed,
Must we abandon? for thy abject slaves,
Solely were we created? No! the cry
Of millions is gone upward: God hath heard:
And from their bondage will deliver them.
How sayst thou then? By the strong arm alone
Shall this be compassed? or, their iron bonds
Wilt thou thyself unloose; and say, `be free'?
We are not few; nor fearful: and our strength
In conflict, once already hast thou proved.
Our own deliverance if our swords work out;
Surely thy power will perish utterly:
Thy name will be a mockery evermore:
Thy throne and kingdom from thee will be rent:
Thy gorgeous city in the flames expire:
And not one stone remain, in after times
To say, `here stood imperial Nineveh!'
But, hearken to me now; and bow thy heart:
Be wisely just; and on a powerful throne
Still mayst thou sit; and threatening fate avert.
Swear thou to us; by air, and earth, and sea;
By heaven above, and by the realms beneath;
By every ruling star; and by the God
Who them, and all created things, doth rule,--
By these, in presence of thy people swear;
That every land beneath thy yoke, erst free,
Henceforth from every fetter shall be freed:
Send to their homes thy tributary hosts:
Thy satraps, iron--sceptred, summon back:
Our wives, and daughters, to our arms restore:
And, from thy treasures,--of that boundless wealth,
During long ages from the nations wrung,--
To each but one year's tribute render back,--
Thus do; and we our bloodless swords will sheathe;
And every man unto his home return.''

Scarce had he ended, when the king,--his rage
No longer bridling,--in his car upsprang;
And,--lightning flashing from his eyes--cried out,
``Rebel, and fool! hence! get thee from my sight!
Away with thee! lest I my oath forget,
And rashly with my own hand strike thee dead!
Pernicious is thine aspect! and thy breath
Poisons the wholesome air! No--slave accursed!
Hateful, and insolent! I will not loose
Your fetters; but will heavier bow you down;
And tread you in the dust; and spit on you!
Hence! hence, I say! Chained battle longs to fly.
The price is on thy head--away--away!''

Deep in the ground striking his quivering spear;
With voice terrific, on the monarch's speech,
Incensed, Arbaces broke: ``Tyrant abhorred!
I hear; and I defy thee! On thy head
As justly might not I the blood--price set?
But no! such glory be for thee alone!
In combat thou mayst perish openly;
I bribe no murderer's blow. Brave king! farewell!
The eternal gods are mightier yet than thou:
Their hands avenging are stretched over thee.''

Still was he speaking, when, with tiger--spring;
A gleaming dagger in his hand; his face
With demon's fury lit; and yelling loud;
Zimri flew on him,--through his neck, behind,
Aiming to drive quick death. The bound, the yell,
Arbaces heard,--glanced back,--the falling steel
Beheld, and leaped aside. O'erbalanced, went
Headlong the balked assassin. With a stroke
Of his great shield, as stumbling he went on,
Arbaces smote, and dashed him to the ground;
Face foremost to the ground, with violent clash,
Smote him,--his lance uplifted--on his neck
His left foot planted; and the fatal blow
Threatened,--yet spared. Up went terrific cries
From all who saw: swords flashed, and spears were raised:
Horsemen pushed onward: chariots 'gan to roll;
And from their ranks the troops, in discord wild,
To break--when, from his car outleaped the king;
And, by Arbaces standing, spread his arms,
Crying aloud: ``Back! back! Have I not sworn?
Down, sword and lance! Would ye the gods incense?''

Thus he; and all the multitude stood awed:
The uplifted lances sank; into their sheaths
The swords returned. But, as the tumult ceased,
Confusion in the Median camp was heard;
Outcries, and clash of arms: for they the din
And sudden stir among the Assyrians marked;
And foulest treachery feared. On Zimri still
His foot Arbaces held. To him the king:
``Hear'st not disorder in thy camp? Away;
Lest worse befall: but, first, just vengeance take.
Death is the traitor's doom: into thy hands
I yield him: pause not: drive thy weapon home;
For foul disgrace upon us hath he brought;
And with his blood must cleanse it. From thy hand
Most fit it were the just reward should come.
Strike then: or if, by foes surrounded thus,
Unsafe thou deem it; fettered hand and foot,
Into thy chariot fling him; and his fate,
Even as thou wilt, dispose. From us outcast,
Let him with life his treason expiate!''

While thus the monarch spake, from Zimri's neck
His foot Arbaces took; and, with deep scorn,
Looked down upon him. Stunned,--or with excess
Of shame and fury, strengthless,--as if dead,
With face upon the earth close pressed, lay he.
Then, to the king, Arbaces: ``Of his fate,
Best that thyself decide: a sentence just
Thou hast pronounced, which, in the minds of all,
From censure clears thee; but the punishment
From other hands expect: or, if from me,
Thus do I speak it: Zimri--rise, and live!
Clothed in thine infamy, through all this land
Go forth, and say, `Thus doth the Mede revenge!''

So speaking, with his lance, contemptuously,
The prostrate wretch he stirred. He, leaping up;
With pallid face, wild eye, and quivering lip,
In self excuse 'gan plead: but, on his speech,--
Wrath in his eye and voice,--the monarch broke.
``Hence from my sight, thou infamous! away!
Fly to the city: and thy shameless head
In thickest darkness hide; lest not from me
Like mercy thou shouldst find. The rebel's grace,
On thee bestowed, from me small thanks demands;
Equally hateful both: or thou the more,
Him thus exalting. But, no time for words.
Prime traitor! thy defiance I have heard!
Haste to thy legions: and in battle try
If over us; or thy besotted crew;
The arm of Heaven for vengeance is put forth.''

To him Arbaces: ``Then from Heaven expect;
This day perchance, or not suspended long;
The chastisement thy pride and guilt call down!
Farewell, Assyria's king! When next we meet,
A different greeting look for. Blind thou art,
And for destruction ravenous. Take thy fill!''

Thus having spoken, haughtily he bent;
With hand extended unto all alike,
Brief farewell waved; turned then, and took his way.
Amid the gazing ranks, with rapid strides,
Onward he went. To every step, his plume
Loftily nodded; and his great sword rang.
His countenance was dreadful to behold:
His eye shot lightning; and his angry brow,
Like storm--cloud, threatened. At his car anon
Arriving, up he sprang: a moment stood;
Back toward the tyrant looking, his right arm
Defiantly flung up: seized rein and scourge,
And flew along the plain: close after him
The heralds, o'er their straining horses bent.

His coming, soon the anxious Medes beheld;
And with wild rapture hailed him. 'Mid the host,
At tempest--speed arriving--to its height
His voice he lifted; ``Get ye ready all:
Battle--the battle is at hand! prepare!
Call on the gods for victory! The foe
Exults and threatens: cast the boaster down!
The day of retribution is at hand!
The hour of your deliverance draweth nigh!''

So he, still pressing onward. Far away
His voice was heard; and, like a fire new roused,
Outflamed that warlike multitude. Each man
Unto his fellows called; to noblest deeds
Each rousing each; and all, as with one heart,
On victory, or on glorious death resolved.

Arriving now where Salamenes stood,
And young Nebaioth, with their heralds twain;
Thus spake Arbaces: ``All is vain! away!
He will not hearken; let him bide the event!
But speed ye, ere too late!'' That said, at once,
No answer tarrying, swiftly he flew on;
Stirring all hearts to fight. The hostage chiefs
As little lingered; but, with sudden haste,
Turned, and drove back. Their coming, with loud cheers,
The Assyrians hailed. Then, at the king's command,
Rang out the trumpets; and the long, loud voice
Of all that mighty multitude went up:
Swords clashed; and ensigns waved: and like a sea
Storm--swept, rolled on the blazing armament.

The Median trumpets also rent the air;
Shoutings terrific, and the clang of arms:
So, for the mortal shock, the exulting hosts,
Calling on God aloud, to battle rushed.