Sem. He went forth well,—and brave as when he drove
The Ghees from Gazim with his single sword!
But—oh—he needs you, Artavan, he needs you!
(Comes closer speaking rapidly)
I ’m with him night and day but when he battles—
I buckle on his arms—cheer him away—
And wipe the foe’s blood from his mighty sword
When he returns! But I ’ve a fear so strange!
At times he ’s moved quite from himself,—so far
That I look on him and see not our father!
If I dared speak I ’d almost say that he
Who never lost a battle shrinks from war!
Art. (Starting) No, no! Not that! You borrow eyes of fear
And see what is not!
Sem. But I ’ve felt the drops
Cold on his brow, and raised his lifeless arms
Whose corded strength hung slack as a sick child’s!
O, it is true! And you must stand by him!
Fight at his side! I thought to do it! I!
See here, my armor!
(Moving with him to where the armor hangs)
When I had this made
And swore to wear it in the fight, ’t was then
He yielded—said that you might come—
(Sound of trumpets at distance. They listen)
The charge!
Art. I go to him!