“I shall have you put in irons! Silence!”
With ever-growing rage:
“You dare talk back to me, riff-raff! You—”
Mariet cautions him:
“Gart! They have brought father here.”
Several sailors bring in the abbot, bound. His clothes are in disorder, his face is agitated and pale. He looks at Mariet with some amazement, and lowers his eyes. Then he heaves a sigh.
“Untie him!” says Mariet. Haggart corrects her restrainedly:
“Only I command here, Mariet. Khorre, untie him.”
Khorre unfastens the knots. Silence.
ABBOT—Hello, Haggart.