_Fer._ Is’t in thy creed man shall buy peace of heaven By selling honour? O nay. Let the king But take my life, and count my blood enough To be one slave’s redemption; there were then No cause to kneel. Yea, wouldst thou shew me kindness, Make this thy prayer. Go back unto thy sire, And sue that he will graciously, as the exchange For these men’s freedom, kill me, or in their pit Bury me alive. _Al._ Alas, alas! 920 _Fer._ If now my words in pleading for myself Have hurt thee, lady, forgive them: nay, weep not. Until I saw thy pity for my sake, I had no woe to bear. _Al._ And woe it is To see such suffering wrought by man on man, And seek to heal it with a woman’s words. _Fer._ Lady, I need not pity: there’s no fortune I have not heart for. _Al._ Now I see these men Have gentler hearts than thou: they gave me comfort Receiving my compassion; thou’rt too proud. 930 _Fer._ For I was shamed seeing a woman weep Vainly for what I suffer without tears. _Al._ I too am bred to shows.—Prince: I was sent To fetch thee to the house. Attend the summons. My father sits to dinner, and enquires Wherefore thou tarriest. Of thy courtesy Play our good guest with freedom; for the king Will use no more constraint, than as thy health And princely state require. _Fer._ I will obey thee. _Al._ And not my father? _Fer._ Him, lady, perforce; 940 But thee most cheerfully. To thee no less Am I a captive. [_Exeunt Almeh and Ferdinand and Zapel._ CHORUS. (_The leader_ (1) _speaks, answered by others_.) Now see we hope, friends: God hath sent His best and nearest messenger For our deliverance.— _Ch._ Who is he?— (1.) What, hast thou eyes, and couldst not see?— _Ch._ If by thy hasty boast is meant The sudden love upsprung Between Christ’s champion and the heathen maid, ’Tis withered on thy tongue.— 950 (1.) Heathen how call’st thou her, Our pitying angel who hath been, And from our mouth the word of truth received?— _Ch._ Hath she believed?— (1.) How shall not love persuade, Now fallen to water God’s own seed, And in such soil?— _Ch._ If she confess, ’Twill but the more our tyrant’s anger feed With tenfold torture to oppress, Or end us all at a stroke.— (1.) And so might be. 960 But hark ye what I whisper. Mark. Ye see How in this garden one permitted hour Each day we wander free.... _Ch._ Ay, ay—an hour a day—what should this mean?— (1.) By their good help, secretly armed, I say.... _Ch._ What sayst thou? Armed!—go on.— (1.) How easy ’twere to find Occasion ... _Ch._ When the foe is gone to fight Thou meanest?— (1.) Ay, thou’rt right.... _Ch._ And so to overpower 970 The few men left behind.— (1.) See ye—