The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. II., No. 4, March, 1836Various
History
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. II., No. 4, March, 1836
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
[Footnote 1: Flavius Vopiscus says that the Hymn which is here
introduced, was sung by the rabble upon the occasion of Aurelian, in
the Sarmatic war, having slain with his own hand nine hundred and
fifty of the enemy.]
Do you hear that flourish of trumpets?
Yes--the king is coming! See!--the people are aghast with admiration,
and lift up their eyes to the heavens in reverence. He comes--he is
coming--there he is!
Who?--where?--the king?--do not behold him--cannot say that I
perceive him.
Then you must be blind.
Very possible. Still I see nothing but a tumultuous mob of idiots and
madmen, who are busy in prostrating themselves before a gigantic
cameleopard, and endeavoring to obtain a kiss of the animal's hoofs.
See! the beast has very justly kicked one of the rabble over--and
another--and another--and another. Indeed, I cannot help admiring the
animal for the excellent use he is making of his feet.
Rabble, indeed!--why these are the noble and free citizens of
Epidaphne! Beast, did you say?--take care that you are not overheard.
Do you not perceive that the animal has the visage of a man? Why, my
dear sir, that cameleopard is no other than Antiochus Epiphanes,
Antiochus the Illustrious, King of Syria, and the most potent of the
Autocrats of the East! It is true that he is entitled, at times,
Antiochus Epimanes, Antiochus the madman--but that is because all
people have not the capacity to appreciate his merits. It is also
certain that he is at present ensconced in the hide of a beast, and
is doing his best to play the part of a cameleopard--but this is done
for the better sustaining his dignity as king. Besides, the monarch
is of a gigantic stature, and the dress is therefore neither
unbecoming nor over large. We may, however, presume he would not have
adopted it but for some occasion of especial state. Such you will
allow is the massacre of a thousand Jews. With what a superior
dignity the monarch perambulates upon all fours. His tail, you
perceive, is held aloft by his two principal concubines, Elline and
Argelais; and his whole appearance would be infinitely prepossessing,
were it not for the protuberance of his eyes, which will certainly
start out of his head, and the queer color of his face, which has
become nondescript from the quantity of wine he has swallowed. Let us
follow to the Hippodrome, whither he is proceeding, and listen to the
song of triumph which he is commencing.
Who is king but Epiphanes?
Say--do you know?
Who is king but Epiphanes?
Bravo--bravo!
There is none but Epiphanes,
No--there is none:
So tear down the temples,
And put out the sun!
Who is king but Epiphanes?
Say--do you know?
Who is king but Epiphanes?
Bravo--bravo!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account