Classic Poem

SCENE II.

Thou sometimes wert known
To miss Devotion's hours. How comes it then
Thou'rt now so soon? hast thou ought that concerns me?
Think'st thou Araxes honest? I have doubts.
I fear the prisoner 'scap'd by his connivance.
Are my commands obey'd?
Dor. 'Tis not yet done.
He could not gain admission to the King.
Ast. Does he not know a frown of mine can crush him?
Dor. I know his heart and hand are wholly yours.
He waits the King's commands.
Ast. Are mine then nothing?
And want I power to justify the deed?
Why was she not dispatch'd? He knew my pleasure.
My pleasure is his duty, 'Twas I rais'd him;
And dares he now dispute what I ordain?
Tell him, I'll have it done; that I command it.
Thou too art false. Then on her self alone
Astarbe shall depend. Away, thou flatterer.
Go hence, and tremble at the Queen's displeasure.
She shall this instant die. For see Phraortes .
Astarbe now has all things at her nod.
Of this day's worship I'll appoint the victim.