Stretching out his princely hands,
Burying in the mud his armored knees....
The Third Watcher: We have seen him!
The Messenger: ... Fixing before him his sparkling eyes, like an Andromeda with horse's mane, more proud than the god of the wind when at the water's edge
He kneels, stretching out his hands to the chains on the rocks of Occismor,
Till he was buried up to the thighs in alms!
For each man looked at him with astonishment, and struck with a vague shame, he gave in silence all that he had and placed it on the ground before him.
He had come, our king, unique in his beauty, adorned with marvellous deeds!
And, full of a secret sadness, we recalled his face, shy and terrible.
The First Watcher: It is thus that....