Vashti. 45

Grows poor and pale when she appears, My beautiful, my own!"

All waiting stood the chamberlains To hear the Queen's reply. They saw her cheek grow deathly pale, But light flash'd to her eye:

"Go, tell the King," she proudly said, "That I am Persia's Queen, And by his crowds of merry men I never will be seen.

"I'll take the crown from off my head And tread it 'neath my feet, Before their rude and careless gaze My shrinking eyes shall meet.

"A queen unveil'd before the crowd!-- Upon each lip my name!-- Why, Persia's women all would blush And weep for Vashti's shame!

"Go back!" she cried, and waved her hand, And grief was in her eye: "Go, tell the King," she sadly said, "That I would rather die."

46 VASHTI.

They brought her message to the King; Dark flash'd his angry eye; 'Twas as the lightning ere the storm Hath swept in fury by.

Then bitterly outspoke the King, Through purple lips of wrath-- "What shall be done to her who dares To cross your monarch's path?"

Then spake his wily counsellors-- "O King of this fair land! From distant Ind to Ethiop, All bow to thy command.

"But if, before thy servants' eyes, This thing they plainly see, That Vashti doth not heed thy will Nor yield herself to thee,

"The women, restive 'neath our rule, Would learn to scorn our name, And from her deed to us would come Reproach and burning shame.

"Then, gracious King, sign with thy hand This stern but just decree,