Nin. (Embracing her) Beloved Semiramis! Forgive thy slave!
No royal dye could shine so to my eyes
As this soft white put on for me alone!
Thy pardon, love, and thou shalt shortly learn
A king, too, knows how best to compliment!
An honor waits for thee—
(Enter officer, left)
Off. O king!
Nin. We hear!
Off. The Armenian approaches.
Nin. Khosrove comes?
(Semiramis watches the king closely)
Off. He comes, great Ninus!
Nin. Well, and more than well!
Summon our train. (Exit officer, right) But one is lacking here,
Our brother—Artavan.
Sem. My lord—you think—