Sem. Now, now I am Assyria!
No more a woman! Softness to the winds!
And let my heart be as my armor—steel!
Khos. Thou canst not make it so by saying it.
There is no cold or heat may temper hearts
Away from their true nature. Mail thyself
From head to foot, thou ’rt still Semiramis!
Sem. A queen!
(An officer enters, left)
Off. Your majesty, an urgent hand
Brings this report.
(Gives paper to her, which she reads)
Sem. The Ghecs are in revolt!
Thank them for me! They could not show me favor
More to my heart!
(Exit officer, left)
I ’m sick of peace—this peace
That gives men time to brood and breed foul thoughts
And fouler deeds! Give me the open war whose blows
Rain down as free as moonbeams from the sun!
Who meets me there I know, at least, he ’s brave,
And there—
Khos. Semiramis!