Guard. Thou canst have no part in this—
Surely no part! But slay him not! The Nuncio
Commanded, slay him not!
Loys. Speak, or ...
Guard. The Prefect
Lies murdered there by him thou dost embrace.
Loys. By Djabal? Miserable fools! How Djabal?
[A Guard lifts Djabal's robe; Djabal flings down the khandjar.
Loys. [After a pause.] Thou hast received some insult worse than all,
Some outrage not to be endured—