_K._ Why look’st thou thus upon me, Sala? _Sa._ Because, sire, thou’st dishonoured me, and slain A noble warrior, who gave me life. _K._ Slain him! _Sa._ Ay, king: except thou raise the dead. For tho’he breathes, ’tis with such failing gasps As mastering death allows to his sure prey. _K._ Thou art over-fearful; three days without food Should make him weak and faint, but not to death. Nay, I am determined now he shall not die. 1780 Food will restore him. Set me here a table With meat and drink: here in the garden set it, And he shall eat at once. See it be done, And quickly. _Sa._ Sire, I obey: tho’’tis too late. [_Exit._ _During the King’s following speech, servants come in with table, etc., which they set down, and go out._ _K._ He must not die, since only by his life I can save Almeh: and ’tis not too late. The sight of food will tempt, the taste restore him: He will yield. I have here too what will move him, This letter; were he built of Atlas stone, For Almeh’s sake he must relent. I know, 1790 I see what must be done. I can consent: For such alliance with an ancient foe Is honourable. Peace between the realms, Happiness to both houses—bought may be With sacrifice on my side—yet there’s pride On both to balance: and, this way refused, ’Tis hell and death. And he will thank me too. He is brave and noble; and the stoutest foes Are won to stoutest friendship. See, he comes. _Enter Fer., upborne between two Moorish soldiers._ Prince Ferdinand, our quarrel comes to end. 1800 A message has arrived from prince Enrique. Your brother Edward, that was king, is dead. Wherefore the power which I have used on thee I now relax. I have a gentler purpose And a persuasion thou mayst guess; while thou, Owing no loyalty but to thyself, I am well assured wilt not be slow to meet me. Sit with me first and eat: when thou’rt restored We will compose these matters at our leisure: Which done, and peace agreed, thou mayst return In time to pay thy brother’s memory 1811 The sorrow it deserves: and in his place Govern the Portuguese. See, there’s thy life, Thy strength and restoration. Sit and eat. _FERDINAND._ I feel no hunger, sire. The time is past When thou couldst save my life. _K._ Despair not. _Fer._ Nay, I do not know the word. _K._ This is despair. Come, sit and eat. _Fer._ I say the wish is past. _K._ Dost thou not then believe? See in this paper Writ to thyself. (_Gives._) (_Aside._) Life doth not tempt this man. 1820 The call to rule his people yet may move him. What readst thou now therein? _Fer._ What thou hast said. My brother Edward’s soul rest in God’s peace! _K._ Is nought else in thy paper?