Sémiramis: Assur, on that I came To speak with thee: our Babylon demands, For such is Ammon’s will, a successor: Heaven and my people will be satisfied When I shall take a partner to my throne: Thou knowest, my pride could never condescend To a divided sway; ’twas my resolve To rule alone, while the impatient world Urged me in vain; and when the people’s voice, Which now is echoed by the voice of heaven, Still presses me, in the bloom of youth, to give A sovereign to mankind, I still refused: If I had yielded then to any claim, It had been thine; you had a right to hope, And to expect it; but you knew too well, How much Sémiramis abhorred a master. Without submitting to a tie so fatal, I made thee then the second of mankind, And only not my equal; ’twas enough, I thought, to satisfy even thy ambition. At length the gods make known their will divine, And I obey them: hear the oracle: “All shall again be well at Babylon, When Hymen’s torch a second time shall blaze Propitious; then shalt thou, O cruel wife, And wretched mother, then shall thou appease The shade of Ninus.” Thus the voice of heaven Declares its sacred will: I know thy arts; Know, thou hast formed a party in the state, And mean to oppose me with the royal blood From whence you sprung: from thee and Azema My successor, it seems, must rise; I know You look that way, and she perhaps aspires To equal honors; but, observe me well: I shall not suffer your united claims To rob me of my right: remember, sir, You know my will; ’tis constant, and as fate Irrevocable: thinkest thou now the God Whose arm is lifted o’er me hath deprived My soul of all its wonted strength and spirit, Or dost thou still behold Sémiramis, Who can support the honor of her throne? Know, Babylon ere long shall at my hands Receive a master: whether the high choice Shall fall on thee, or be another’s lot, I’ll take a sovereign as a sovereign ought: Bring me the magi and the princess here To join their voices with Sémiramis. To give away my freedom and my empire Is the first, greatest act of royal power, And therefore let it be performed with awe And silence due to my authority. Heaven hath appointed this great day to show Its mercy to me, and the gods at length Remit their anger; nothing can disarm it But my repentance; ’tis the only virtue: Trust me, it is, howe’er you may despise it, Remaining for the guilty: weak, I know, And fearful thou esteemest me; but henceforth Remember, Assur, guilt alone is weakness: Think not that fear can e’er disgrace a throne, It has done good to kings, and might to thee; I tell thee, statesman, to obey the gods, And tremble at their power, is no abasement.