_Vashti_.
Be sulky in his arms: the weather soon
Will pleasantly favour thee again.
_4th Woman_.
No, no;
Not because from our heaven of man's mind
Thou wilt bring down on us a rain of scorn,
But because thou art wicked, thou must go
And tell the King the wine was rash in thee.
_Vashti_.
I must!
_3rd Woman_.
Thou must indeed: words such as thine
Never were impudent in men's ears before.
_2nd Woman_.
We will not have thee disobedient.
_1st Woman_.
Here comes another: gentle words, my Queen,
Let him take from thee now, and swiftly follow
Contrite, and let the beauty of thy grief
Bend pleading against the King's furious eyes.
[_The_ POET _comes in, and kneels_.
_Poet_.
I will not ask thee what strange anger sent
That blaze of proud contempt in the King's face:
But ere the voice of the King seals up thy life
In an unalterable judgment, I
Am granted now to come as his last message:
And, as I will, to speak. Here then I am
Not as commanding, but on my knees beseeching,
And for myself beseeching.
_Vashti_.
What hast thou
To do with this? and wherefore wert thou chosen?
_Poet_.
I was to praise the splendour of the King;
And I made thee his splendour; and the King,
Knowing my truth, would have thee brought, to break
All the pride of his under-kings, already
Desperate with his riches, and now seeing
What marvellous fortune also hath his love,
How marvellously delighted.
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