Nin. Speak not of going, Artavan!
Khos. I must,
O king! I pray your leave to go at once
To Gazim. Sudden troubles urge me there.
I beg your kingly warrant I may pass
The gates—
Nin. Nay, you shall stay! We shall persuade you!
(To attendant) Summon the queen. Her voice we ’ll add to ours.
Khos. My lord—
Nin. We like you, Artavan! By Bel,
We do! You’re worthy of your sister queen!
No more—you ’ll stay! ... See! This is Khosrove!
(Bends over body on the floor) Is—
Or was? ... He lives.... Think you these bones will hold
Until they reach old Husak? Now you ’ve come,
We must keep faith! Ha! ha!
Khos. And that—is Khosrove?
Nin. Truth, ’tis! ... Bear out the dog!