(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! Assyria
Shall owe her throne to none!
(Khosrove springs up, trampling the robe)
Hus. Now thou wilt rise!
A prince who might have gone with gods 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.