To speak of the disaster, but that prince, Clement as valiant, questioned courteously My name, and hearing it returned my sword, 270 And bidding me choose out from all his suite What horse I fancied,—for my own was killed,— He raised his helm, and said, ‘Go free, brave Sala; ride and tell thy king We follow thee to rescue from his hands The prisoners he withholds:’ That is my tale. Allah is great, and what he doth to-day To-morrow he may undo. _K._ This courteous Christian Is but a fool: for had he kept thee fast, He might have had his men in thy exchange. 280 _Sa._ No less now must thou grant them. _K._ No, by God. Hark, Sala: these few days thou hast been away Have brought me from the east four times the force Which thou ill-fatedly hast lost. Morocco Lies camped a short league hence, and in his tents Are twenty thousand men. _Sa._ Morocco is here? _K._ Said I not well? Is he not one to meet These Christians? Let them come. How many be they? _Sa._ Eight, maybe, or nine thousand. Where’s Morocco? _K._ At Alcabar. When look they to be here? 290 _Sa._ They have no thought we can oppose their host, And will not hasten. _K._ We will be ready for them. Prepare to leave by noon: thou must collect What men thou canst. I will go write my summons To Tarudante. Stay: I have not enquired What are thy wounds. _Sa._ Nothing that should forbid Immediate service: food, an hour of rest Will make me fit. _K._ In three hours be thou ready. [_Exit._ _Al._ Go thou within, Sala; and rest thee now. Or wilt thou first take food? _Sa._ There’s time enough. 300 Bid me not hence, my rest and food are here. How cam’st thou hither? _Al._ The king sent for me. _Sa._ And why? Thee in the camp! O beauteous Almeh, Dost thou think vilely of me, that the Christian Surprised and overcame me? If I had known That thou wast here ... _Al._ Stay, Sala: thou wilt hurt Thy soldiership. I doubt not Ferdinand Is a most worthy foe: I rather fear He hath a quality unconquerable. _Sa._ Ha! then I am scorned. 310 _Al._ I mean he is generous: He set thee free. Couldst thou not match that deed? _Sa._ As friend or foe I would outmatch him bravely. Nay but to see him in his angel-fairness Provoked my emulation, and I vowed Some day to kill his horse, and take his sword, And cry him quit. _Al._ Still thou’rt for war: ’twere better Repay him with the gift that he demands, These miserable captives.