Pakh. You are there, my son—'tis well—I am glad—that that maker of spells is gone. [Simply] Heal me.
Satni. Yes, father, you shall be healed. But you must have patience.
Pakh [simply] Heal me, now, at once.
Satni. I cannot.
Pakh. Why do you not want to heal me?—See you not that I am wounded—I suffer—come, give me ease—
Satni. I would give all, that it were in my power to do so.
Pakh. You know prayers that our priests know not—
Satni. I know no prayers.
Pakh [in anguish] You are not going to let me die?
Satni. You will not die—have confidence.