Semiramis and Other Plays Part 23

Hus. By Belus' star, whose beams Are death to breakers of an oath! We ask This crown--no more. (Takes crown from Khosrove's hand) You pause. Stand not, my son.

Thy vengeance waits. Do what thou wilt with her, We'll question not.

(Khosrove strikes off the chains of Semiramis)

Khos. Go free to Nineveh.

(Husak stands in amazed silence, then understands and burns with speechless anger. At last he speaks slowly with intense wrath)

Hus. All madmen in my kingdom die! Bind him!

(Guards bind Khosrove)

Sem. Die? No! O, sir, you would not slay your son?

Hus. This loathsome thing is not my flesh!

Sem. Thy son!

Hus. We have no son. Armenia has no heir.

Bear him away!

Sem. (Holding out her hands) My chains! Dost think I'll owe My life to him? Thou know'st not yet my pride!

Bind me and set him free!

Hus. (Thunderingly) No! Husak breaks No oath! We're not a G.o.d as Nineveh, And bold to mock at Heaven!

Khos. (To Semiramis) I knew the price, And chose to pay it. 'Tis my wish. Farewell!

(Guards bear him out)

Hus. (To Semiramis) Go free to Nineveh!

Sem. No! O, kill me!

Hus. Nay, go! But go alone--on foot--and through A hostile country!

Sem. Ah!

Hus. That subject who Shall give thee food or drink dies in the act!

Proclaim it, all!... Come, friends, we've not yet held The feast of victory. The slighted G.o.ds Will s.n.a.t.c.h away their favor if we long Delay our revels. Though we'll miss one face,

(Suppresses a groan)

We'll know this much--there'll be no traitor there!

(All leave the tent but Semiramis)

Sem. Alone ... on foot ... and through a hostile country!

I'll overtake thee, Khosrove, ere thou 'st reached Thy throne among the stars! Thou goest from love, And wilt look back and weep from every cloud; I on thy track shall pause not till our wings Stir the same air and lock in kisses flying!

... So pay my scorn? How then hadst loved if heart Had brought to heart its swelling measure? Then Our rosy hours had been the pick of time, And hung a flower 'mong withered centuries When every age had brought its reckoning in!

O, why will we, some cubits high, pluck at The sun and moon, when we have that within Makes us the soul and centre of Heaven itself?

Ambition, thou hast played away my crown And life. That I forgive thee, but not this-- Thou 'st robbed me of the memory of his kiss.

... Go, world! The conqueror's trump that closed my ears Unto the angel in a lover's voice Dies to a moan that fills but one lone heart.

And soon 'tis silent. Ah, though woman build Her house of glory to the kissing skies, And the proud sun her golden rafters lay, And on her turrets pause discoursing G.o.ds, Let her not dare forget the stanchion truth-- Immortal writ in every mortal face-- "Thou art the wife and mother of the world!"

(Sees Khosrove's cloak upon the floor, and kneels by it, taking it in her hands)

My Khosrove!... Methought a G.o.d struck off my chains So strong and fair he seemed, yet strove to hide The beauty of his act, as might a star Shrink in its own sweet light!

(Buries her face in the folds of the cloak)

O, n.o.ble prince, I might have kissed thy lips and not thy garment!

(Rises and wraps the cloak about her. Spurns with her foot her own robe which has been left trampled)

Thou purple rag, lie there! Love's vesture shall Enfold me as I go!

(Starts out) Alone ... on foot ...

But I've not far to journey. Foes are kind....

The first one met ... well, I will thank him!... Cries?

It is the feast. A man may feast who had-- But has no son!... (Startled) 'Tis not the feast!... I know That noise confused--hoa.r.s.e shouts--shrieks--pawing steeds-- And rumbling chariots! Those are the tones Of battle! O, the b.l.o.o.d.y work! 'Tis war!

Did it delight me once?... a.s.syrian cries!

My troops! my troops! They've rallied! How they cheer!

What brave heart leads them on?

(Cries come nearer)

Poor creatures, they Would save me knowing not I died with Khosrove.

I will not live--

(The rear of the tent is torn away by an onslaught.

a.s.syrian troops enter, led by Artavan)

Art. Semiramis!

Sem. My brother!

You live!

Art. And you!

Sem. Praise Heaven there is one Will comfort my sad kingdom!

Art. Nay, all's well!

The death of Ninus freed me from my prison; I gathered troops and pushed hard after you, To hear you had been taken; then I planned This rescue. Thank great Belus, I'm in time!

Sem. In time? Nay, thou'rt too late!

Art. Too late? When thou Dost live?