“Are my orders executed?” she demanded of them.
“Yes,” replied they.
The fête was very gay. A slave having, by the force of habit, served the king first, Semiramis had him beaten with rods. His cries mingled with the laughter of the guests. Every one was inclined to merriment. It was a comedy, in which each played his part. Towards the end of the repast, when wine had added to the general gayety, Semiramis rose from her elevated seat, and said: “My lords, the treasurer of the empire has read me a list of those who this morning have brought me their gifts of congratulation on my joyful accession to the throne. One grandee alone of the court has failed to bring his gift.”
“Who is it?” cried Ninus. “He must be punished severely.”
“It is yourself, my lord—you who speak; what have you given to the queen this morning?”
Ninus rose, and came with a smiling countenance to whisper something into the ear of the queen. “The queen is insulted by her servant!” exclaimed Semiramis.
“I embrace your knees to obtain my pardon, beautiful queen,” said he; “pardon me, pardon me”; and he added in a lower tone, “I wish this fête were finished.”
“You wish, then, that I should abdicate?” said Semiramis. “But no—I have still two hours to reign”; and at the same time she withdrew her hand, which the king was covering with kisses. “I pardon not,” said she, with a loud voice, “such an insult on the part of a slave. Slave, prepare thyself to die.”
“Silly child that thou art,” said Ninus, still on his knees, “yet will I give way to thy folly; but patience, thy reign will soon be over.”
“You will not then be angry,” said she, in a whisper, “at some thing I am going to order at this moment.”