All were happy and gay: the bridal pair alone were not expected to take part in the general merriment, but sat in formal silence, enthroned at the head of the table.
A white-haired bard sang this ancient ballad, accompanying himself on the tamboura:
“Dark night shrouds the plain of Avaraīr,
The silver moon has hidden herself to weep in silence:
For Vartan and his braves are lying
Dead on the cruel earth.
Suddenly a piercing cry rends the darkness:
‘Vartan, Vartan where art thou?’
But nought except the screech-owl
Responds to the maiden’s despairing cry.