Otanes: But thinkest thou The spirit of thy lord hath left indeed The mansions of the dead, and stalks abroad? Ofttimes the soul, by powerful fancy led, Starts at a phantom of its own creation; Still it beholds the objects it has made, And everything we fear is present to us.

Sémiramis: O no! it was not the wild dream of fancy By slumber wrought, I saw him but too well: The stranger, Sleep, had long withheld from me His sweet delusions; watchful as I stood, And mused on my unhappy fate, a voice Close to my bed, methought, cried out, “Arsaces!” The name revived me: well thou knowest, long time Assur has pierced this heart with deadly grief: I shudder at his presence, and the blushes That show my guilt increase my punishment, Hate the reproachful witness of my shame, And wish I could—but wherefore should I add To crimes like mine fresh guilt? I sought Arsaces To punish Assur, and the thought of him Awhile relieved me! but in the sweet moment Of consolation, sudden stood before me That minister of death, all bathed in blood, And in his hand a falchion: still I see, Still hear him: comes he to defend, or punish? ’Twas at that very hour Arsaces came. This day was fixed by heaven to end my sorrows, But peace is yet a stranger to my soul, And hope is lost in horror and despair: The load of life is grown too heavy for me, My throne is hateful, and my glories past But add fresh weight to my calamities. Long time I’ve hid my sorrows from the world And blushed in secret, fearful to consult That reverend sage whom Babylon adores: I would not thus degrade the majesty Of sovereign power, or let Sémiramis Betray her fears before a mortal’s eye, But I have sent to Libya’s sands in secret There to consult the oracle of Jove: As if removed from man, the God of truth Had hid in desert plains his will divine. Alas! Otanes, that dread power which dwells Within these lonely walls, hath long received My fears and adorations; at his altars My gifts were offered, and my incense rose; But gifts and incense never can atone For crimes like mine: to-day I shall receive Answers from Memphis.

SCENE VI.

Sémiramis, Otanes, Mitranes.

Mitranes: An Egyptian priest Is at the palace gate, and begs admittance.

Sémiramis: Then will my woes be ended, or complete. Let us begone, and hide from Babylon Her queen’s disgraceful sorrows: let Arsaces Be sent to me: soon may his presence calm This storm of grief, and soothe my troubled soul!

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Arsaces, Azema