, you thron'd nations, that to your sight
She shall be lent, the pleasure of the king,
She whom to visit so inflames my soul,
That I can judge how God burns to enjoy
The beauty of the Wisdom that he made
And separated from himself to be
Wife to the divine act, mother of heavens.--
Let Vashti come and stand before the kings!

III

VASHTI AND THE KING'S WOMEN AT THEIR FEAST

_1st Woman_.
Queen, is it well to be so sorrowful?

_2nd Woman_.
And when the King our lord spendeth on us
This festival out of his rich heart, to shoot
Thy looks upon us as thou wouldst rebuke us?

_Vashti_.
Your pardon: do I trouble your greed?

_1st Woman_.
Our greed?
Rather our gratitude----

_2nd Woman_.
That we have share
In these devices of the King's own cooks,
These costly breads,--

_1st Woman_.
And these delicious meats,
These sauces mixt of spicy treacle and balm.

_3rd Woman_.
And wines, purple and blue and like gold fire,
Made of the colours of the morning sea
And fragrance wild as woman's need of love.

_Vashti_.
Enjoy them then: who lets you?

_3rd Woman_.
Thou dost, Queen.
Thou sittest with hands folded in thy robe,
And in the midst of delicacies wilt fast.

_1st Woman_.
We see thine eyes upon them as they were
Wickedness.

_2nd Woman_.
'Tis rare bounty that we women
Halve with the King his festival.

_3rd Woman_.
And thou,
It seems, scarce findest it thankworthy.

_Vashti_.
Again,
Your pardon: but ye need not gaze on me.--
And yet, why am I sorrowful? In truth,
Is it a sorrow that so leans upon me?
I know not. But my soul knoweth right well
That I am watched.

_3rd Woman_.
Then in thy conscience, Queen,
Thou feelest the King requiring thanks of thee.

_Vashti_.
Be careful of thy tongue,--and of the wine.--
Who watches me? Eyes are fixt on my soul,
Eyes of desire. I think some great event
Hath pusht its spirit forward of its time,
To stand here quietly waiting, into my mind
Inflicting its strange want of me, and ready
To fetch my heart, and ready to take my hand
And lead me away shrinking: is it Death?
It is some marvellous thing: for I know surely
Behind it crowd out of their discipline
The coming hours to watch me seized, and stare
With questioning brows on me, and lift lean hands
From under gowns of shadow to point me out
One to another, saying: "This is she:
How will she bear it, think ye?"--Is it not cold?
Was there not wind just then?-