SLAVES He is going to the King.  He is going to the King.

ZARB He is going to the King.

KING ARGIMENES Going to prophesy good things to the King.  It is easy to prophesy good things to a king, and be rewarded when the good things come.  What else should come to a king?  A prophet! a prophet! (A deep bell tolls slowly.  King Argimenes and Zarb pick up their spades at once, and the old slaves at the back of the stage go down on their knees immediately and grub in the soil with their hands.  The white beard of the oldest trails in the dirt as he works.  King Argimenes digs.)

KING ARGIMENES What is the name of that song that we always sing?  I like the song.

ZARB It has no name.  It is our song.  There is no other song.

KING ARGIMENES Once there were other songs.  Has this no name?

ZARB I think the soldiers have a name for it.

KING ARGIMENES What do the soldiers call it?

ZARB The soldiers call it the tear-song, the chaunt of the low-born.

KING ARGIMENES It is a good song.  I could sing no other now. (Zarb moves away digging.)

KING ARGIMENES (to himself as his spade touches something in the earth.) Metal! (Feels with his spade again.) Gold perhaps!—­It is of no use here. (uncovers earth leisurely.  Suddenly he drops on his knees and works excitedly in the earth with his hands.  Then very slowly, still kneeling, he lifts, lying flat on his hands, a long greenish sword, his eyes intent on it.  About the level of his uplifted forehead he holds it, still flat on both hands, and addresses it thus:)

O holy and blessed thing. (Then he lowers it slowly till his hands rest on his knees, and looking all the while at the sword.)

KING ARGIMENES Three years ago tomorrow King Darniak spat at me, having taken my kingdom from me.  Three times in that year I was flogged, with twelve stripes, with seventeen stripes, and with twenty stripes.  A year and eleven months ago, come Moon-day, the King’s Overseer struck me in the face, and nine times in that year he called me dog.  For one month two weeks and a day I was yoked with a bullock and pulled a rounded stone all day over the paths, except while we were fed.  I was flogged twice that year—­with eighteen stripes and with ten stripes.  This year the roof of the slave-sty has fallen in and King Darniak will not repair it.  Five weeks ago one of his queens laughed at me as she came across the slave-fields.  I was flogged again this year and with thirteen stripes, and twelve times they have called me dog.  And these things they have done to a king, and a king of the house of Ithara. (He listens attentively for a moment, then buries the sword again and pats the earth over it with his hands, then digs again.  The old slaves do not see him:  their faces are to the earth.) (Enter the King’s Overseer carrying a whip.  The slaves and King Argimenes kneel with their foreheads to the ground as he passes across the stage.  Exit the King’s Overseer.)