]
BENHADAD:
What of the city? Said your king no word
Of our Damascus, and the many folk
That do inhabit her and make her great?
What of the soldiers who have fought for us?
WHITE ENVOY:
Of these my royal master did not speak.
BENHADAD:
Strange silence! Must we give them up to him?
Is this the price at which he offers us
The yoke of peace? What if we do refuse?
RED ENVOY: [Stepping forward.]
Then ruthless war! War to the uttermost.
No quarter, no compassion, no escape!
The Bull will gore and trample in his fury
Nobles and priests and king,--none shall be spared!
Before the throne we lay our second gift;
This bloody horn, the symbol of red war.
[He lays a long bull's horn, stained with blood, on
the steps of the throne.]
WHITE ENVOY:
Our message is delivered. We return
Unto our master. He will wait three days
To know your royal choice between his gifts.
Keep which you will and send the other back.
The red bull's horn your youngest page may bring;
But with the yoke, best send your mightiest army!
[The ENVOYS retire, amid confused murmurs of the
people, the King silent, his head, sunken on his
breast.
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