_Ch._ Rank we now as stones? _Fer._ Stones, but not Ceuta’s stones; they if they bled Would spout heroic blood: royally therewith Were they baptised, ere they might wear the cross. I was a babe then: but the nurse that rocked My cradle sang it: How the youthful prince, Edward my brother, led the assault and fought With hundreds hand to hand: how in the ships, Watching the combat, the old king himself Could no more be restrained, but forth descending, For envy of the fight, with agèd hands 811 Clambered upon the walls, and by his son Dealt wary strokes of death: till o’er the heaps Of his own slain, out of his robber nest Sala ben Sala fled. _Ch._ Long live the king! _Fer._ Since that day hath the fame ceased? Hath not Ceuta Been as Christ’s tourney, where the nations Have clapped their hands to see a few brave knights Hold Africa at bay, and in the field Conquer whole armies of the unbelievers? 820 _Ch._ Praised be God! _Fer._ I made an oath to match My brother’s praise. _Ch._ Alas! what fate withheld God’s favour from our arms?—We who set out To do him honour, and to plant the cross On Tangiers’. as it stands on Ceuta’s walls?— The foe lay watching for us, like a lion Descended from the mountains. _Fer._ On that day I led your battle; and when ye were taken, I fled but to retrieve the day. I found A second army; I sought out the foe, 830 And overcame him: and the furious Sala, Faln in my hands, I feared not to set free As herald of my triumph. I was here: I had come Even to this castle, when behold, swarming Innumerable from the hills around, The horsemen of Morocco! _Ch._ What of the army? _Fer._ Led off in captive gangs to serve the Moor. _Ch._ Alas for us and them. Thou canst not save. We are all enslavèd, all undone. _Fer._ Be so, Tame, cagèd wills, the off-scourings of fortune, Mere counters of disaster! I will not yield. 841 _Ch._ Yield, prince, for us, who left our homes so far To serve under thy banner; whom thine arm Hath led to slavery—O prince, set them free, Whom thou hast bound.—Restore us. Pay the price. _Fer._ Can ye forget? _Ch._ Nay, we remember well Estremadura, we remember Tagus, The banks of Guadiana, and our homes Among the vineyards; Ezla we remember, Obidos and Alenquer, where the trees 850 Shadow the village steps, and on the slopes Our gardens bloom: where cold Montego laves The fertile valleys ’mong the hills of Beira: Our country we remember, and the voices Of wives and children, by whose tears we pray, Despise us not. See on our knees we bow, And by God’s love pray thee deliver us. [_They all kneel to Ferdinand._