Sem. No, thou didst not! ’Tis true! I am—
Khos. No, no!
I ’ll prove it is not so! See here—the dove—
That nestles at your breast! Why is it here?
Sem. Because I was a woman once—and dreamed
On foolish, woman things! (Frees bird from her bosom)
Fly! fly!
And as I pluck thee out I pluck away
All thought of mortal love, and stand alone
Beneath Assyria’s crown!
Khos. (Gazes at her in despair) Then I ’ll be gone!
Sem. You ’ve pleaded well, but my domains are broad,
And might give tongue to wilder eloquence
Without love’s sweet excuse!
Khos. No more! I go!
(Moves off, left. Near exit, turns)
I lead my father’s troops!
Sem. I lead my own!
(Exit Khosrove. She looks after him without moving until he passes out of sight. The moonlight is less bright. Her dove flies over her head. She starts and looks after it. The bird alights. She watches it eagerly and waits. It circles about her, then darts to her bosom. With an exultant moan she clasps it to her breast)