Prompts me to wait thus far, but pity for
The daughter of a friend and neighbour-king,
Else Timma's body would have long ere this
Been given to the eagles of the air.
So listen now, once more, ere I kill him,
And, if at all thou carest for his life,
Let me but see the beauty of thy face,
And for one moment only gaze upon
Its loveliness—then Timma shall be free,
And I will pass in quietness to my home—