Hus. Ask of thy heart,

(Khosrove is about to speak) Peace, boy!

For once we'll be a father, not a soldier! Wait!

(Khosrove kneels and kisses his father's hand as Semiramis enters between guards. She is robed and crowned, her arms fettered with golden chains, and holds herself proudly, not looking at Husak. She turns to Khosrove, who watches her eagerly)

Sem. We meet again. Wert thou upon the field?

I saw thee not. Perchance thy father thought 'T were wise to find his health and lead his troops Lest _Love_ should blunt thy sword!

Hus. By Bel, his sword Was sharp enough to find the heart of Sumbat,-- Your general!

Sem. Sumbat slain! (Turns to Khosrove) and slain by you!

Khos. I had my choice--to slay him or to die.

Sem. (With bitter scorn) And did the love that makes one prayer to Heaven Rule in that choice?

Hus. These taunts, Semiramis--

Khos. Nay, father, she has cause to use me so.

Sem. Oh, you confess you played with me! Then, heart, In with thy scorn for this outbraves thy own!

(Turns away, folding her chained hands on her breast, and stands as if she would speak no more)

Hus. You make no suit for mercy?

Sem. (Turning to him) What! from thee?

Who kill your captives ere your tent is struck, Nor spare a guard to drive them from the field?

Hus. I grant what I would ask--death before serfdom!

You'd keep them for your dogs and slaves!

Sem. And when Am I to die? Why breach thy custom now?

Hus. We like your spirit, but push not so far, Or we shall break the bounds we've set ourselves.

Have you not found us gracious to your rank?

You look not like a prisoner!

Sem. No thanks For that! This robe and crown, these chains of gold Are compliments that Husak pays himself, Proclaiming him a royal victory, Though not a royal victor!

Hus. What! Dar'st fling Into my face that the Armenian kings Rule unanointed? Dost think that I would sue To Nineveh or Babylon for leave To take my kingly emblems from their hands?

But thou--thou shalt owe thine to me! I wear No proud insignia of the G.o.ds, and yet My hands shall strip and clothe thee as I will!

(Tears off her robe and crown)

Khos. Father!

Hus. By sun and moon--

Khos. O, sir--

Hus. Her pride Insults my mercy, but I'll keep my word.

Take these. (Gives him the robe and crown) Now, woman, learn that Husak--ay, Husak, the Fierce, can pity fallen glory!

Stand forth, my son! Look, captive, on this prince!

A man not made to sue to less than G.o.ds!

Make him thy husband-king, and from his hands Receive thy purple and remount thy throne!

(All are astonished. Khosrove shrinks back in shame, which Semiramis misunderstands)

Sem. Methinks this lover makes no ardent suit, King Husak! Why, the sun has not twice set Since he did swear me dearer than my crown, And now the crown's too much if my poor self Must burden it!

(Khosrove kneels before her, holding up the crown)

Hus. Rise, sir! You give, not sue!

(Semiramis looks down on Khosrove, then turns to Husak)

Sem. Thank, thanks, Old man, for making me once more myself!

For by the blood that storms through all my veins I know I'm still a queen! Now all the pride That lives in my lost crown, and all the scorn Should meet thy fawning suit, be in my words,-- I do refuse your son! a.s.syria Shall owe her throne to none!

(Khosrove springs up, trampling the robe)

Hus. Now thou wilt rise!

A prince who might have gone with G.o.ds to wive Nor bated them in choice! This to my face!

I, Husak, fawn on woman! Out with her!

Drag her to death! To instant death! Out! out!

(Guards approach Semiramis)

Khos. To _instant_ death?

Hus. (Looks searchingly at him.) Ha! ha! Not yet! She's thine!

Choose thy revenge! Have now thy will!

Khos. Thou'lt grant it?

Hus. Ay, ay, whate'er thou wouldst!

Khos. She is thy captive.

Hus. I make her thine! My conqueror's right I yield To thee!

Khos. Dost swear it?

Hus. Doubt me not! I swear!

Khos. By Belus' star?