A King's Daughter: A Tragedy in Verse

by John Masefield

As my father’s officer I have to report what the citizens feel.

Jezebel.

You feel it with them.

Joram.

Whatever I feel I can restrain; but since you insist, I say that it is hard that my father should be ruined by your Syrian policy and gods and self.

Jezebel.

You are half-Syrian.

Joram.

Through you, I was. But in this war, while I lay wounded, a Syrian trooper kicked me and spurred me in the face. That took my last drop of Syrian blood; your blood. There is nothing Syrian in me now. But I mean to pay the Syrians for that kicking and spurring when they lie wounded. You have made father mild and Ahaziah like yourself; but after them perhaps I shall be King; perhaps sooner.

Jezebel.