That was in battle—but to shed her blood!
My child Moraima’s! Could he see and strike her?
A Christian see her face, too! From my house
The crown is gone! Who brought the tale?
Sadi. A slave
Of your late son’s, escaped.
Mel. Have I a son
Left? speak, the slave of which? Kaled is gone—
And Octar gone—both, both are fallen—
Both my young stately trees, and she my flower—