Assur: Your reception, sir, I find, was noble, such as kings have oft Solicited in vain: you saw the queen In secret, did she not reprove a conduct Injurious to my honor and her own? Did she not tell thee Azema’s designed For Assur, not for thee? Long since her hand To Ninias given was for the blood of kings Alone reserved; and therefore is my right, As next to the throne: did she acquaint you, sir, Into what fatal snares your pride would lead you, That neither fame nor honors will excuse Your bold pretensions?

Arsaces: I well know what’s due To your high birth, and to the rank you bear, And should have paid it, though you had not thus Instructed me; but as a master here I own you not: your royal ancestors, From Belus sprung, perhaps may give you claim To Azema; the welfare of the state, Present and future, all, I own, conspire To raise your hopes of bliss, and make her yours: These are your claims, and I acknowledge them: But I have one that’s worth them all: I love her: I might have added this, that I avenged And saved her, gave new lustre to the throne Which she was born to fill, if I had chosen, Like thee, to boast of my exploits before her. But I must leave thee, to perform her orders. Sémiramis and her I shall obey, And them alone: a day perhaps may come When thou shalt be our master: heaven sometimes In anger sends us kings: but thou art deceived, At least in one of thy ambitious views, If amongst thy subjects thou hast ranked Arsaces.

Assur: The measure’s full: thou courtest thy own destruction.

SCENE III.

Assur, Azema.

Assur: I’ve borne his insolence too long already, ’Tis time we enter on a nobler subject, And worthier thy attention.

Azema: Can there be one? But speak.