_Za._ And ever, when I have tried to cheer her, Hath she rebuked me, as she is wont; but gently, And bid me leave her: Then to meet her humour I have gone, but made occasion to return, Bringing such simple food as best she likes, Freshly prepared to tempt her; and with tears I pray her but to taste: yet she endures, And saith, 'I thank thee, Zapel: tho’I eat not, Thy skill is not misspent stretching the rack 1670 That proves my constancy. I prithee, girl, Set fresh and fresh before me.’Hearing this I weep for pity: but she saith, 'Be sure I shall not taste thy dishes, till one eat Who is now denied.’ _Sa._ Doth she not speak his name? _Za._ Rarely and reverently, as a name of God. Then I am sent to learn the last; if yet He lives, and whether he hath spoke of her. This morn, As I returned from such unhappy quest, She gave me this: See, ’tis a letter for him.... 1680 [_Shewing letter._ _Sa._ Thou darest! _Za._ O sir, the piteous prayer she made, Kneeling and clasping me about the knees, Went to my heart. But now I have it I fear To have broke the king’s command. I prithee take it. _Sa._ Give’t me. [_Takes._ _Za._ To see her thus, Allah forgive me, I wish well to the infidel. What word Shall I take back? _Sa._ Say truth. I will deliver it. And tell her prince Enrique is returned: He is camped a league away, and in such force As makes me hope I may persuade the king 1690 To yield to his demand. Since there’s this hope, Bid her preserve her strength bravely, nor thus Prejudge God’s will. His blessing aid thy words. [_Exit Zapel._ I said there’s hope. ’Twas hope that bade me lie, For none I see. And this is misery, To cherish consolations, and be happy Doing the loathèd thing. Am I content To bear a letter of Almeh’s to her lover? Allah is great. My best desire is only 1699 To save her,—my one hope that the prince should yield: And no persuasion but her love will move him. This letter will entreat him; I must carry it. _Enter King._ _KING._ Sala, make haste: a herald from Enrique. This to me: Read. Edward of Portugal Is dead. His eldest son being but a babe, A regency now governs, and the rulers Are prince Enrique and this Ferdinand. The other I cannot read, and ’tis addressed To Ferdinand. I doubt not that it urges Acceptance of my terms and quick return. 1710 _Sa._ I pray it be so. Is it your pleasure, sire, To speak with Ferdinand? _K._ Ay, fetch him hither. The dog being master now may change his mind. _Sa._ And will you see him in his shameful dress? _K._ Nay, that is past:—his own, and with his sword. _Sa._ And his despatch; shall I not bear it to him?