Classic Poem

SCENE IX.

Ara. I spoke the King's commands; when from the crowd
One of the Captives rose, and humbly pray'd
Admission to the throne.
Phra. I hear no suits.
Ara. She wish'd to speak a matter of importance.
Phra. Dismiss them all. Let us retire, my Queen.
Ast. Araxes , stay.
Phra. What is Astarbe 's pleasure?
Ast. This matter should be search'd. The fate of Empires
Turns often on the slightest information;
And were my counsell worthy to be heard,
I would admit her.
Phra. Let her be admitted.