Nin. What precious tale is this?
Vas. He thinks to fright you from the maid, my lord.
Dok. (Falling at the king’s feet)
O king, ’tis true! Ask thou in Gazim—
Nin. Go!
(Dokahra vanishes through curtains left rear)
Nin. ’T will take a better lie to save your head!
Men. My head? Thou ’rt welcome to it! ’Tis not that!
But she—my daughter—
Nin. We will spare her life.
Men. (Calmly) It is my prayer that she may die with me.
Nin. Not while we love. If e’er she lose her charm,
We may remember that you were her father.