Such miracle though, easier its death
Than the life-haunting frenzy that predooms
Who delve into this mountain’s mystery!
An Old Slave.
Truth speaks he! [The other Slaves murmur assent.]
The Overseer.
[Angrily.]
Truth or falsehood, his next word
Will earn a whipping!... Are the oxen yoked? [He looks toward a point beyond our vision.]
Then load with these the drays! [He indicates the stones already quarried, accordingly the Slaves slip a noosed rope about the largest of these and drag it away.]