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.