Whips, racks should teach you! What, his fools? his dupes?
Leave me! unhand me!
Kha. [Approaching Djabal timidly.] Save
her for my sake!
She was already thine; she would have shared
To-day thine exaltation: think, this day
Her hair was plaited thus because of thee!
Yes, feel the soft bright hair—feel!
Nuncio. [Struggling with those who have seized him.] What, because
His leman dies for him? You think it hard