d doting
Man's joy in woman's beauty will become;
Or a strict binding fire, holding him down
In lust of beauty where no beauty is.

[_The_ KING'S MESSENGER _comes in_.

_Messenger_.
To Vashti, to the Queen of the world, to her
In whom the striving beauty of the world
Hath made perfection, from the King I come.
And the King bids me say, Rise from thy feast;
For thou must be to-night thyself a feast:
The vision of thy loveliness must now
Feed with astonishment my vassals' hearts.
Therefore thou art to come.

_Vashti_.
And tell the King
I will not come.

_Messenger_.
What was there in my words
Thou dost not understand?--I say, the King
Would show thy beauty to his under-kings,
That with this also they may be amazed
And utterly fear his fortune.

_Vashti_.
So. Go back,
Tell the King I have hearkened to his message,
And tell him I will not come.

_Messenger_.
What sickness shall I say has lighted on thee,
So that thou canst not come?

_Vashti_.
Thou weariest me.
Say this to the King, Vashti will not come.
Are they not plain, my words? Canst thou not learn
them?

_Messenger_.
Give me some softer speech. Must I not fear
I shall earn whipping if I take these words?

_Vashti_.
I pray thee, go. Thou art a trouble here;
Seest thou not how all these feasting women
Pause, and the pleasure is distrest in them?
Thou hast thy message: say, She will not come.--
Back to the King, now!

_Messenger_.
I am whipt for this.

[_He goes_.

_Vashti_.
It seems, my sisters, we have changed our moods.
But now, my mind was heavy, you were blithe;
And in a moment, you, behold, are fixt
Gazing like desperate things, while I rejoice.

_1st Woman_.
Rejoice! thou dost rejoice? then madness does.

_Vashti_.
I know not that: but certainly I know
A mind, that has been feeling for long time
The greatness of some hovering event
Poised over life, will rejoice marvellously
When the event falls, suddenly seizing life:
Like faintness when a thunderstorm comes down,
That turns to exulting when the lightning flares,
Shattering houses, making men afraid.
And this is my event: I am its choice.
Yea, not as a storm, but as an eagle now
It stoops on me; and, though I am its prey,
I am lifted by majestic wings, my soul
Is clothed in swiftness of a mighty soaring.

_3rd Woman_.
What glory can her wondrous eyes behold?

_4th Woman_.
Seemeth her flesh to glow! and her throat pants
As one w