Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/55

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VASHTI'S SCROLL
35
My maidens hung around me as I told
Those seven lord chamberlains, so gray and old,
To bear this answer back: "It may not be.
My lord, my king, I cannot come to thee.
It is not meet that Persia's queen, like one
Who treads the market-place from sun to sun,
Should bare her beauty to the hungry crowd,
Who name her name in accents hoarse and loud."
With stern, cold looks they left me. Ah! I knew
If my dear lord to his best self were true,
That he would hold me guiltless, and would say,
"I thank thee, love, that thou didst not obey!"
But the red wine was ruling o'er his brain;
The cruel wine that recked not of my pain.
Up from the angry throng a clamor rose;
The flattering sycophants were now my foes;
And evil counsellors about the throne,
Hiding the jealous joy they dared not own,
With slow, wise words, and many a virtuous frown,
Said, "Be the queen from her estate cast down!
Let her not see the king's face evermore,
Nor come within his presence as of yore;
So disobedient wives through all the land
Shall read the lesson, heed and understand."
Up spoke another, eager to be heard,
In royal councils fain to have a word,—
"Let this commandment of the king be writ,
In the law of the Medes and Persians, as is fit,—
The perfect law that man may alter not
Nor of its bitter end abate one jot."
Alas! the king was wroth. Before his face
I could not go to plead my piteous case;
But, pitiless, with scarce dissembled sneers,
And poisoned words that rankled in his ears,
My wily foes, afraid to let him pause,