_K._ The devil take thy mocking salutation. I have three matters for thee: attend. The first Is that Morocco leaves us, and with him Our army is gone; whereon the second follows: Thou must send forth with speed to all the towns To levy succours; and thy forces here, 1621 Disordered in the war, visit thyself, Reform, and make report. The third is this, My will concerning Ferdinand,—and let that Be first in thine attention;—’tis his death. My hospitality which he hath wronged, I now withhold ... to death—thou understandest? And more, ’tis death to any that shall give him A crust or drop of water: and I will change His entertainment. Set him in the stables 1630 To serve the grooms: put chains upon his feet: Appoint a guard to enforce his tasks, and make Mouleh their serjeant. For the execution I hold thee liable. Let not his life Outdrag three days. But hark: in spite of vengeance, And in remembrance of his claim on thee, He may go quit upon the old condition, Ceuta:—thou understandest? Go tell him this, The only hope my clemency allows, But of my provocation not a word. 1640 Be thou in time prepared to clear thyself Of having known this mischief and concealed it. _Sa._ My liege.... _K._ Begone and do my will. Thy words Save to persuade the prince. Speak not to me. It angers me to see thee. Go. I have done. [_Exit Sala._ Three days I said; three days. Within that time, Unless I have my town, I’ll be revenged. ACT · IV _ZAPEL and SALA, meeting._ _SALA._ What tidings, Zapel? I have been all day away, And had no word. _ZAPEL._ There’s none of good to tell. She hath neither ate nor slept. _Sa._ Will she not eat? 1650 _Za._ Nothing. _Sa._ ’Tis the third day. _Za._ Nor will she sleep. She fights ’gainst sleep, as if ’twere death. Like one That must keep watch against its soft approaches, Sitting upon her couch with head inclined She mourneth to herself, and ’twixt her sighs What words may be distinguished overlook Her own distress, and squander their laments Upon an unknown sorrow, which she says Enwraps the world. Or sometimes she will sing The melancholy strains which she hath heard 1660 The Christian captives use. _Sa._ ’Tis a brain-sickness: Miserable.