Bears graven on his heart the holy image of the King.
And there is no question of officers and soldiers, but each one
Takes his part like a musician and they form a single body,
And death has lost its meaning.
(Pause. Vague clamor in the distance. All keep their eyes fixed on the Standard.
The First Subaltern: He has left behind the ancient flag.
The Standard Bearer: The Standard of the Empire is here, but they march under various ensigns.
Many bear the image of the Sun
Who embraces the Heaven and the Earth, and arms go out from his radiance.
Fishermen in a bark are throwing their net about him, spurred foresters are mounting towards him through the spreading oaks.