_Rod._ What power hast thou? perhaps thou soon wilt want A place of refuge. _Opas_. Rather say, perhaps My place of refuge will receive me soon: Could I extend it even to thy crimes, It should be open; but the wrath of heaven Turns them against thee, and subverts thy sway; It leaves thee not, what wickedness and woe Oft in their drear communion taste together, Hope and repentance. _Rod._ But it leaves me arms, Vigour of soul and body, and a race Subject by law, and dutiful by choice, Whose hand is never to be holden fast Within the closing cleft of knarled creeds; No easy prey for these vile mitred Moors. I, who received thy homage, may retort Thy threats, vain prelate, and abase thy pride. _Opas_. Low must be those whom mortal can sink lower, Nor high are they whom human power may raise. _Rod._ Judge now: for, hear the signal. _Opas_. And derides Thy buoyant heart the dubious gulphs of war? Trumpets may sound, and not to victory. _Rod._ The traitor and his daughter feel my power. _Opas_. Just God! avert it. _Rod._ Seize this rebel priest. I will alone subdue my enemies. ACT III. SCENE 2. RAMIRO _and_ OSMA _enter from opposite sides_. _Ram._ Where is the king? his car is at the gate, His ministers attend him, but his foes Are yet more prompt, nor will await delay. _Osma_. Nor need they—for he meets them as I speak— _Ram._ With all his forces—or our cause is lost. Julian and Sisabert surround the walls— _Osma_. Surround, sayst thou? enter they not the gates? _Ram._ Perhaps ere now they enter. _Osma_. Sisabert Brings him our prisoner. _Ram._ They are friends! they held A parley; and the soldiers, when they saw Count Julian, lower’d their arms and hail’d him king. _Osma_. How? and he leads them in the name of king? _Ram._ He leads them; but amidst that acclamation He turn’d away his head, and called for vengeance. _Osma_. In Sisabert, and in the cavalry He led, were all our hopes. _Opas_. Woe, woe is theirs Who have no other. _Osma_. What are thine? obey The just commands of our offended king, Conduct him to the tower {58}—off—instantly. Ramiro, let us haste to reinforce— _Ram._ Hark! is the king defeated? hark! _Osma_. I hear Such acclamation as from victory Arises not, but rather from revolt, Reiterated, interrupted, lost. Favour like this his genius will retrieve By time, or promises, or chastisement, Which-e’er he choose—the speediest is the best— His danger and his glory let us share; ’Tis ours to serve him. _Ram._ While he rules, ’tis ours. What chariot-wheels are thundering o’er the bridge? _Osma_. Roderigo’s—I well know them. _Ram._ Now, the burst Of acclamation! now! again—again. _Osma_. I know the voices; they are for Roderigo.