HAGGITH. Yes, my roaring lion.
INGUR. Listen! Thou hast saved thy life with water. But thou art lost.
HAGGITH. Lost?
INGUR. Ay! A woman in the camps of the Assyrians—she is undone. She is a lamb in a den of terrible tigers. (Comfortingly.) No, no! I will protect thee, but I warn thee that thou art undone. I am honest. (Caresses her.)
HAGGITH (clumsily returning his caress). Thou wilt not harm me.
INGUR. I will not tear thee to pieces, but thou shalt come away with me. (She timidly strokes him). Thou hast not the habit of this stroking.
HAGGITH. My mistress commanded me, when I encountered any noble Assyrian, to use him thus. It is true that I have not the habit. Nevertheless I do what I can.
INGUR (startled at the mention of a mistress). Thy—thy mistress? Ye are two? Where then is thy mistress? Tell me upon the instant—is she fairer than thou?
HAGGITH. Seven times more fair.
INGUR. Fetch her!