POTENTATE. This last invention of your master's is inhuman!
SAGE. War is inhuman, Sire. Where a speedy end is desired, is it not kindest to be cruel?
(The POTENTATE gazes again into the crystal, but starts up immediately with a gasp of horror.)
POTENTATE. Again the same vision! Always after my victories the vision of the Crucified, with the stern reproachful eyes! Am I not the Lord's appointed instrument? What means it? Tell your master that I will have no more of his inventions. They are too diabolical! They imperil my cause!
SAGE (pointing to the crystal). Look again, Sire.
POTENTATE (gazing into the crystal, and in a low and agonized voice). Time with his scythe raised menacingly against me. (Abruptly) This is a trickery, Sirrah! Have a care! But I will not be tricked. Are my troops not brave? Are they not invincible? Can they not win by their proven valour? Who can stand against them, for the strength of the Lord is in their right hands?
(Enter GENERAL hastily)
GENERAL. Sire.... (He starts, and stops short).
POTENTATE (testily). Go on, go on. What is it?