Sem. What ’s in thy mind? What thought doth paint thy face
In dreadful silence? Oh! you think that I—
(Looks at him with equal horror. Removes farther from him, regains composure, and speaks with haughty coldness)
This serves me well! Right well, Armenian!
Yes—yes—I knew—I knew the king would fall.
But knew, too, sir, that Vassin was below,
And, by my precious gods, I did not dream
He would not save his king! While you—my guest—
You would have gone to death!
Khos. Forgive me!
(Semiramis walks farther, not heeding him)
Oh,
I found a stream that ran from heavenly springs
And in it cast the soot of hell!
Sem. Well served—
Well served, Semiramis!... I was so sad ...
And would not be content to let him go ...
I wanted but a word ... a word to cheer me ...
And now I have it—murderess!
Khos. (Who has advanced to her) No, no,
I did not say it!
Sem. The tongue may well keep silent
When eyes speak lightning. I have heard too much!
’T were better I had let you die!
Khos. Ay, better ...
Better than this!