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Rai. (bending to receive the Priest's blessing.) Holy man, I come From a lost battle.

Urb. And thou bring'st the heart Whose spirit yields not to defeat.

Rai. I bring My father's bier.

Urb. His bier! I marvel not To see your brow thus darken'd! And he died, As he had lived, in arms?

Rai. (gloomily.) Not, not in arms— His war-cry had been silenced. Have ye place Amidst your ancient knightly sepulchres For a warrior with his sword? He bade me bear His dust to slumber here.

Urb. And it shall sleep Beside our noblest, while we yet can call One holy place our own! Heard you, my lord, That the fierce Kaled's host is on its march Against our city?

Rai. (with sudden exultation.) That were joy to know! That were proud joy!—Who told it?—there’s a weight That must be heaved from off my troubled heart By the strong tide of battle! Kaled?—ay, A gallant name! How heard you?

Urb. Nay, it seem'd As if a breeze first bore the rumour in. I know not how it rose; but now it comes Like fearful truth, and we were sad, thus left