The Messenger: Then it was
That in the unhappy soul was born the fury of the captive!
Renouncing life and crying "Forward!", they flocked to where the bugle sounded the assembly.
Still not sure of themselves,
When, like a superintendent among his workmen, he walked among them, looking at them all, assuring himself
That everything was according to his command.
They turned to him their ranks of eyes of every kind and hue, and they were comforted again.
To a man they gladly left their families and their work.
There was on the slope a mighty growth of broom, tree of yellow flowers, dear to the bees.
He had it cut down and, having kissed it, he bade them bear it before him. Then he mounted his horse.