But come! The chariot waits. The people call.
Sem. First will I tell my father that he lives.
He ’s waiting there the summons to his death.
Ah, I must thank you sir.
(Takes the king’s hand and kisses it. Goes through curtains, right, rear. Her cry is heard within. She returns.)
Too late! He ’s dead!
Cold, cold, my father! Oh!
(Sobs, her hands covering her face)
Nin. (Removing her hands and putting his arm about her)
Thou ’rt not alone,
My bride!
Sem. (Withdrawing and kneeling to him, her hands upraised)
O king, leave me my brother!
Nin. Nay!
Did you not have your choice? You ask too much.